


Lessons Learned

by Dextrousleftie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gay Sex, Love, Lust, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5488001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextrousleftie/pseuds/Dextrousleftie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fred and George Weasely set out to teach a lesson to the loathsome Malfoy. It doesn't go as they'd planned... A/N:This story is A/U because Fred doesn't die in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Nasty little git,” George Weasley’s voice was angry as he glared at the slim boy with the pale, pointed face and the shock of almost white-blonde hair who was strutting down the corridors of Hogwarts like he owned the place. His twin Fred nodded grimly in agreement, both of them eyeing Draco Malfoy in disgust. The Slytherin had once again been hassling their younger brother Ron, as well as Ron’s best friends Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. The twins were growing tired of Malfoy’s belief that he could get away with whatever he wanted, just because his father was so powerful and he was practically the pet of the potions teacher Snape. They yearned to teach the little bastard a lesson, one that would stay with him. But what?The two boys put their red heads together and began to formulate a plan.

 

*****

 

Draco Malfoy walked down the steps to the dungeon, on his way to his potions class. As he went, he thought about ways that he could torture Harry Potter today in class. Draco hated Potter for a lot of reasons, very few of them having to do with his defeat of Voldemort as a baby. He hated Potter because his father, Lucius Malfoy, loathed the boy. And he hated Potter because he was practically the darling of Hogwarts. Almost all of the students loved Harry, while Draco was scorned by everyone except his fellow Slytherins.

It would have shocked his nemesis to know that Draco secretly wanted to be liked. But then, Harry was a nice kid but not very observant about a lot of things. He didn’t always understand the things that motivated certain behaviors in other people. Draco yearned for approval. All his life he’d sought it - mostly from his father, pretty much unsuccessfully. Lucius Malfoy was a cruel, vile man, and his son had emulated him ever since he could toddle. But at his very heart, Draco was nothing like his father. And that had always made him feel like a failure, someone who wasn’t good enough to garner either love or approval from his sire. He took out his anger and pain wherever he could, lashing out at those like Potter who seemed to effortlessly get what he wanted so much. And Weasley, who might be poor in material things but had a big loving family and parents who adored him. What would Harry Potter have thought if he knew that his enemy was jealous of him? He probably would have been amazed. 

These thoughts weren’t on Draco’s mind as he approached his classroom. In fact, he never thought about why he did the things he did consciously. Like most people, he wasn’t heavily into self-examination. He just knew that he hated Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, as well as that know-it-all Hermione Granger who was better at magic than he was even though she came from a Muggle family. And hadn’t he heard his father harp on and on about mud bloods often enough, railing against the fact that they were allowed into Hogwarts at all? Just about the only way that Draco got any approval at all from his father was by torturing and picking on these other children that Lucius hated.

Suddenly, he saw a blur of red out of the corner of his eye. He heard a spell being cast, and thin but strong ropes wrapped themselves around his mid-section so that he couldn’t move his arms at all. He tried to yell, but realized that silence spell had been cast on him as well. “That’s more like,” a voice said, and he saw the Weasley twins stroll into his line of sight. He glared futilely at them, making Fred and George smirk at him in return. “We got you tied up good and proper. Won’t be casting any nasty little spells on us, will you, Malfoy?” one of the twins sneered.

Frightened fury lashed through Draco. How dare they! How dared the miserable Weasley twins do this to him, Draco Malfoy! They’d wish that they’d never been born by the time he’d finished paying them back for this insult. The twins shared a glance, and then moved toward the bound Malfoy almost as one. They picked him up as though he was a piece of luggage, and all of his squirming was futile.

He was carried away down the hall past the potions classroom, and into the lesser used portions of the dungeon. To his dismay, no one saw his predicament. He was in the twins’ hands, and there was nothing he could do about it. The twins had scouted out a little used storeroom before they made their move on Malfoy. They triumphantly carried their burden into this room and set Malfoy back down on his feet.

Fred went and closed the heavy door, shoving a piece of wood under it so that it couldn’t be opened from the outside. George chuckled as he circled their victim. Malfoy glared defiantly back at him, the only thing he could do with his arms bound and the silence spell still on him. His eyes promised the twins a world of pain, but neither of them looked particularly worried. “So here’s how it is, you little git,” George remarked as Fred came over to join him, “We’re sick and tired of you picking on our brother. And Harry Potter, for that matter. You’re going to leave them alone, and Hermione, too, or you’ll suffer the consequences.”

Malfoy lifted his pointed nose into the air sharply, silently conveying the message that he would do no such thing, and that he wasn’t afraid of the two of them. Fred sighed. “We didn’t think you’d listen to reason,” he said aloud. “So we’re going to resort to blackmail.” 

Malfoy’s brows gathered together in puzzlement. What did they mean? The twins exchanged another glance, and then George stepped forward and reached out a hand to catch a hold of the smaller boy’s pale, pointed chin. He held it in his strong grip, and before Draco could realize what was happening, a red head bent and George kissed him full on the mouth. Malfoy gasped in shock, and the moment he did a tongue invaded his mouth. 

His brain was reeling. While he’d kissed one or two Slytherin girls, he’d never been kissed by another guy before. And those tentative kisses had certainly never been quite like this. George had a wealth of experience to draw from, and he was using it all on Malfoy. Draco moaned silently as that impudent tongue began to stroke over everything with in his mouth. He couldn’t even have jerked his head back if he’d wanted to; since George’s other hand was curled around the back of it. 

He was only vaguely aware that Fred had knelt down in front of him. He didn’t know that the other Weasley twin had drawn his school robe up to his waist, until he felt the shocking sensation of fingers undoing the snap on the front the trousers he was wearing under them, and then the zipper being pulled down. A hand yanked the trousers down his hips, taking his underwear with it. He cried out soundlessly into the mouth still devouring his, and tried to squirm away. But it was impossible. The hand that had divested him of his trousers now closed over his narrow hip to hold him in place. “Well, my my,” drawled Fred’s voice from about waist level. “Look at this. What a naughty boy you are, Malfoy.”

George lifted his mouth from Draco’s to glance down at the Slytherin boy’s groin. Malfoy’s cock was half-erect, twitching between his legs as the two boys looked at it. Fred laughed as he used his free hand to fluff the sparse white gold pubic hair around it, and then curled his hand around the base. Malfoy gasped silently again, his eyes wide. “Seems that you like to be touched by other guys,” Fred remarked, looking up at Draco’s face through his dark red lashes. “Bet your Slytherin pals don’t know about this, eh? What would they think if we spread the word around school that Draco Malfoy is a poof?”

Before Malfoy could even respond by making a face, Fred chucked darkly and leaned forward. His tongue curled out of his mouth and lightly laved over the pink tip of Draco‘s erection, making the bound boy shudder and cry out wordlessly. Fred swirled his tongue over the sensitive glans, then opened his mouth and took in more of the cock into his moist, warm mouth. At the same time, George returned to kissing Draco. The twins worked the Slytherin boy over in tandem, and Malfoy could do nothing but quiver and moan without sound into the mouth eating at his. 

Draco couldn’t believe what was happening to him. Fred’s mouth was sucking at him insistently, while George’s tongue was gilding over his. It felt so good! His brain felt like it was going to explode. He found himself moving his hips, lunging them forward to try to push more of himself into the tight, warm orifice taking him in so sweetly. He cried out silently over and over in George’s mouth, his eyes closing as he felt himself being drawn up toward an explosive orgasm by the twins’ attentions. Wanking off had never been like this. Nothing had ever been like this before. And as Fred’s tongue caressed the underside of his cock, Malfoy could take no more. He screamed silently as he came, shooting into Fred’s mouth as the other boy expertly swallowed his semen. 

George pulled his mouth away from Draco’s kiss-swollen one, looking into the Slytherin boy’s glazed eyes. He grinned as he glanced down at his brother, who was tucking Draco’s now flaccid cock back into his underwear and trousers. “I think he liked that,” George remarked impishly.

Fred dropped Malfoy’s robes and got lithely to his feet. He licked at his lips a bit as he studied Draco’s face, which was now flushed a pale pink. “You may be right,” he replied to his twin’s observation. 

Malfoy’s mind was finally returning to Earth. He blinked almost owlishly at the two red headed boys as George snapped his fingers in front of Draco’s face. “Oy! Git! Here’s the deal. Either you leave our brother and his friends alone from now on, or Fred an’ I’ll spread the word through the school about this. Everyone’ll know that Draco Malfoy likes to have his cock sucked by another guy.”

Fred removed the silence spell right then. A recovering Malfoy spat furiously: “You do that, and it’ll just ruin your own reputations!”

George threw his head back and guffawed heartily as Fred rolled his eyes. “Stupid,” Fred said in amusement. “Everybody in school – or at least all of the older students, anyway – already know that George and I are bisexual. That means we like boys and girls, both, Git. Since that’s well known about us, our reputation (such as it is) can’t be ruined by giving you a blow job. YOUR reputation, on the other hand, won’t be so good once word gets out. Everyone will think that you’re a poof. All your friends will know that you got a blow job from me - and that you loved every minute of it,” he added coolly. “I’ll make sure to pass along ALL the details. Comprende? This is a spot of blackmail, Slytherin wanker. So which will it be? You leave Ron, Harry and Hermione alone, or we spill the beans.” 

Malfoy glared impotently at the twins. They had him between a rock and a hard place, and he knew it. If word got out about what had just happened, his friends would not react well. And if his father ever found out…a chill ran down his spine at the very thought. His face paled to about Casper the Friendly Ghost coloring as he imagined Lucius Malfoy’s response to finding out that his son was gay. Never mind that one blow job didn’t make him gay, Lucius wouldn’t see it like that. Terror lanced through him. “I promise,” he nearly whispered. “I’ll leave them alone. Just don’t say anything, please.” 

The twins’ eyes widened to see Draco Malfoy begging them to keep quiet. Moreover, the absolute terror on the boy’s face was startling. His pupils were wide and dilated with fear, and he was actually swaying a bit. The two boys exchanged concerned looks. “Okay,” George said, “We won’t tell anyone if you keep your end of the bargain. You have our word on that.” 

Fred pulled out his wand and touched the be-spelled ropes holding Malfoy’s arms in place. They fell away. He pocketed his wand. The twins made their way over to the door, leaving Malfoy still standing stock still in the middle of the store room. Looking at each other uncertainly yet again, the twins silently communicated their concern for Malfoy’s strange reaction to their threat. “You gonna be all right, Malfoy?” Fred said worriedly.

The Slytherin boy turned his head a bit, very slowly, like a robot whose circuits weren’t functioning quite right. “Yes,” he said dully.

Fred and George hesitated a moment longer, but they just didn’t know what to do. So they finally left, with Malfoy still standing like a stone statue in the middle of the empty store room. Somehow Draco managed to pull himself together. He went to class, taking his detention from Snape for being so late with barely a quibble. He sat very still at his desk, staring at the wooden top, which was stained by many years of potions work. It wasn’t just his fear of his father that was having this effect on Draco Malfoy. It was something else, as well. He’d been forced to peer into his very soul, and to see certain things about himself that he hadn’t known about. He’d liked it. He’d liked every moment of what had happened – and not just the involuntary pleasure that a teenage boy might feel when someone was sucking his cock. He’d never responded like this to the few kisses and groping he’d shared with the Slytherin girls he’d dated. He’d never even gotten hard. But from the moment that George had stuck his tongue into Malfoy’s mouth, he’d responded in a way that he never had to any girl before. 

He wanted to cover his face and moan in agony. He really WAS a poof. This was the worst thing that could have happened to him, to be made aware of his sexual leanings. Ignorance really was bliss where he was concerned. Because there was no way that Draco Malfoy could be gay. Sooner or later, word of his sexual orientation would leak back to his father – and that would be that. The twins had done him a major disservice with their little prank, not realizing the consequences. Because now that he’d been sexually awakened, certain yearnings and cravings would haunt him constantly. Eventually he’d give in to his desires, and his life would be over. Literally. What was he going to do?


	2. Secrets Divulged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred and George discover Draco's secret. What will they do?

“What’s wrong with the Git?” George hissed into Fred’s ear.

They were sitting in the stands of the Quidditch field, watching a match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff was ahead for the moment, but not by much. The match could go either way. The stands were packed, and the twins could see their brother Ron sitting with Harry and Hermione not far away. They could also see the Slytherin section across the way, and the distinctive head of near white-blonde hair belonging to Draco Malfoy. Their brother’s ex-nemesis was sitting sandwiched between Crabbe and Goyle, as usual. But ever since that little incident in the dungeons, Malfoy had been acting very strange. He was quiet, which was extremely unusual in itself. But moreover, he seemed subdued and upset most of the time. And…haunted. That was the only word that George could come up with to describe the look that the Slytherin boy wore most of the time. As though he were afraid of something.

The twins might have passed this off as his fear that they might not keep their word and tell everyone in school anyway that Malfoy was a poof, except that he didn’t act more frightened and nervous when he was around them than when he was around anybody else in the school. What worried both of them most, although neither would admit it aloud, was how haggard Malfoy looked sometimes. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was even paler than normal. And the ends of his fingernails were chewed ragged, too. The twins feared that they might have precipitated whatever was causing this in Draco, and they felt guilty.

Not that they wanted to feel guilty – they wanted to tell themselves that it wasn’t their fault. Or that the nasty little wanker was just getting whatever he deserved. But they just couldn’t - especially since Malfoy’s strange behavioral quirks had all started since that time in the dungeon. Fred glanced over at Malfoy as well, a frown on his face. He shrugged to his brother’s question. This was the first time that either of them had voiced aloud their growing concern for the Slytherin boy, and Fred didn’t know quite what to say. “Maybe we should ask him,” he said doubtfully.

George lifted a reddish brow. “You really think that that’s a good idea?” he said.

Fred sighed. “No. But I can’t think of anything else to do. I suppose we could do nothing…” he trailed off, and George nodded in silent understanding. 

They simply COULDN’T do nothing, not when this might really be their fault. The trick they’d played on Malfoy had backfired on them, and they were now feeling the aftereffects. If something really bad came of it, they had to know that it truly had nothing to do with what they’d done to him down in the dungeon. It was true that Malfoy was a nasty little git, but still… 

“Okay, we’ll have to get him away from those two gorillas,” George continued with a nod at Crabbe and Goyle. “I don’t think he’ll open up to us with those two Neanderthals hanging about.” 

“I doubt that he’ll open up to us willingly anyway,” Fred replied dryly, “But it will be easier to get him to talk without his shadows. So what should we do to make them get lost?”

George snorted. “That’s easy,” he drawled. “We just lead ‘em around by the stomach.” 

 

Draco Malfoy sat on the bleachers, staring blankly at the Quidditch game taking place in the air above him. Nothing happening up there on those broomsticks was registering with him, because he was too far gone in his own head. The last month had been a torment for him. Ever since the Weasley twins had snatched him and given him the blow job down in the dungeon, he was becoming more and more aware of his own awakening desires. He found himself staring at many of the other male students now, seeing boys who were handsome and/or sexy. He had even fantasized about kissing them, or doing much more with them. He daydreamed constantly about having sex with other boys, and at night he’d been woken up more than once by wet dreams. And every one of those dreams had featured other boys. In fact, most of them had been about the Weasley twins, which disturbed him even more. So far he hadn't attempted anything more dynamic than wanking off in the bathrooms or his dorm when it was empty. He was terrified to make a move, because if he chose wrong and the boy in question told someone, his life wouldn’t be worth a bent knut.

But he was tortured by his burgeoning desires, because his body was now awake - and relentless in telling him what it wanted. He tried not to imagine going through the rest of his school years like this, and probably all of his life until his father died. Hiding what he was and what he needed, scared that his secret would come out – literally! And not only ruin his life but end it altogether. He sighed. He had no real choice but to continue on as he had indefinitely, no matter how unhappy he was. He pushed himself up off his seat, making his two henchmen stare at him in surprise. “I’m leaving,” he said with a good imitation of his perpetual sneer. “This is boring.” 

The two big boys stood up as well, and Malfoy wished sincerely that he could ditch his friends and go find someplace private to just ‘be with himself’. He trailed away from the Quidditch field, feeling depressed and forlorn. He was walking a bit ahead of Crabbe and Goyle, since he didn’t want to talk to his flunkies if he could help it. So he didn’t see Goyle pause as he saw something in the grass. It was a shiny striped wrapper, like a candy wrapper, with something still inside of it. He nudged his friend Crabbe, and the other boy turned to look at what he’d seen. They stared dully at it for a moment, and then Goyle took the initiative and bent down to pick it up. He unwrapped the shiny stuff, and indeed there was a piece of candy inside of it. As he did so, Crabbe saw yet another wrapped candy sitting on the ground near his feet. He bent over to pick it up eagerly, for the piece of chocolately candy that Goyle was now eyeing greedily looked very enticing. 

Goyle threw caution to the wind (not that either of them had those kind of instincts) and gobbled the piece of candy. Crabbe followed suit, both stuffing the candy into their faces. Looks of pure bliss ran over their broad, stupid-looking faces, because the candy was very sweet and tasty. They smiled at each other, blessing their good luck at finding the candy just lying around in the grass. But then Goyle’s stomach rumbled, and a peculiar expression ran over his face. He clutched at his mid-section, while Crabbe gasped as his own intestinal disturbance began to take place. Both looked at each other in dismay, then broke into a hobbling run toward the school. They needed to find a bathroom, and they needed to find it NOW. They didn’t even bother to stop and explain anything to their friend Malfoy, for they simply didn’t have time. So he had no idea that his shadows had deserted him as he set his lagging feet down the path toward the lake.

He didn’t want to go back to the school just yet. He didn’t care what Crabbe and Goyle thought of his odd behavior as he stood at the water’s edge and stared down moodily into its depths. Maybe he should just throw himself into it and let himself sink down to where the mer folk lived. End it all, and be done with this constant misery. He crossed his arms over his chest as though hugging himself, trying to contain the things that kept trying to spill out of him.

He heard two people walk up behind him, but he was so out of it that he didn’t register that these footsteps were not the usual clumping ones of his two minions. So his hair tried to stand up on the back of his head as a familiar voice drawled: “Hello, Git. Wotcha doin’?”

He froze. His wildly nattering mind considered running, but he was pretty sure that he wouldn’t stand a chance against the two long-legged Weasley twins. He felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder, and he shivered. But not from fright, although George didn’t know that. “Don’t be so jumpy,” he chided the blonde-haired boy. “We just wanna talk to you.”

“A-About what?” Malfoy squeaked. His pupils were dilated, and he stared around at the twins’ faces with an expression that clearly said that he expected them to do something awful to him. Both of them felt a lance of guilt, which they tried to quash without total success. 

“We’re just wonderin’ what’s eating you,” Fred said in as soothing a tone of voice as he could manage. “You’ve been acting pretty queer since…well, you know.” 

At the word ‘queer’, Malfoy’s face flushed a bright pink from chin to forehead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he cried shrilly, trying to back away from George’s hold on him(and in consequence nearly falling into the lake). 

The twins both raised their eyebrows at this odd reaction. Their sharp eyes studied his face, trying to understand what had just set him off. “Listen, Git,” Fred said after a tense moment, “We just wanted to say that we’re…ummm…sorry,” he said, having to force this word out.

Malfoy gaped at him, for never in a million years would he have expected the WEASELY twins to apologize to him! “We went too far,” George elaborated. “We know that. So if you’re worried about us tellin’ anybody, you don’t need to be. We’ll never tell a soul,” he made a zipping motion over his lips.

Malfoy should have felt relieved by this, but he didn’t. Not really. For the basic problem that was growing worse day-by-day was still there, and there was no way that he could put this genie back in the bottle. A hundred apologies from Fred and George would not make it any better. He was buggared(literally), and whether they’d meant to or not, the twins were the cause of all of this. He found himself unexpectedly furious, and his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Oh, thanks for nothing!” he spat, glaring at them both. “If that’s all you have to say, then don’t let me stop you from leaving!” his pale eyes were snapping, and his face was twisted. 

The twins were taken aback, and gaped at the clearly enraged Malfoy with their mouths and eyes rather wide. Malfoy made a sound rather like a growl, and began to stomp past the twins. But George came out of his trance and grabbed at the slim boy’s arm. “Hey, wait,” he said, as Malfoy tensed up and tried to pull away. The red-haired boy stared hard at the Slytherin’s face. “This isn’t just about me and Fred blackmailing you down in the dungeon, is it?” he asked softly, his eyes narrowing. “Something else is eating at you. What?” 

Malfoy pulled ineffectually against the hold that George had on his arm. “It’s none of your business,” he snarled, still tugging to try to get his arm free. “Let me go!”

“But it is our business,” Fred said reasonably. “Cause you only started acting weird after we had our little ‘talk’ with you. So there must be something to do with that in the way you been acting. What? Is it because we tied you up? Embarrassed you? Gave you that blow job?”

Malfoy jumped at this question, and both of the twins’ eyes narrowed when they saw his nervous reaction. “So it WAS the blow job,” Fred said musingly. 

They exchanged glances. “Well, we know you liked it,” George said softly. “Maybe you liked it a bit too much, Git? Maybe you want another one?” 

“No!” shrieked Malfoy desperately. “No, I don’t! Let me go!! Let me go!!” he was nearly hyperventilating, his chest heaving as he struggled wildly against George’s hold. To their further shock, the Slytherin boy burst into tears. “Let me go,” he moaned, despair in his voice. “Please…” 

The twins had never, EVER heard Draco Malfoy say ‘please’ before. And that, combined with the tears streaming down his pale, pointed face, had a profound effect on the two boys. For the first time ever, Fred and George Weasley felt pity for a Slytherin. Instead of letting Malfoy go, George began to relentlessly pull him forward. His weak struggles had no effect on that sinewy arm. When Malfoy was close enough, Fred stepped in close to him from the left. He froze, terrified, thinking that the twins were going to do something awful to him again. But then his mind went completely blank, as he found himself engulfed into a tight hug by two sets of strong arms. He didn’t know what to do, for no one had ever really hugged him before. His mother never showed this kind of gentleness with him, and Lucius Malfoy would only hug someone after he’d had that full lobotomy. 

“It’s all right, Git,” George said soothingly, close it his ear. “It’ll be all right, really.”

Malfoy hung limply in their embrace, still in shock and unable to comprehend what was happening to him. Tears continued to trace down his cheeks, unheeded. He made a sound rather like a whimper. Fred spoke, as gently and quietly as though he were talking to a frightened animal. “Were we right, Malfoy? Did you like that blow job? Do you like guys?” 

Malfoy nodded silently, miserably, unable to articulate anything at the moment. George said in puzzlement: “I don’t get it. What’s so bad about liking other blokes? We do, you know, as well as girls.”

Malfoy found his voice. “But you don’t understand!” he wailed, nearly choking on his sobs. “My father will kill me!” 

Silence, as the twins absorbed his words. Then: “Do you mean that? That he’d actually kill you?” Fred said incredulously, for the terror was clear in Malfoy’s voice.

“Yes! You don’t know, you don’t what he’s like!” there was despair in the Slytherin boy’s voice. “He’ll never stand for a son who’s a poof! He’ll really, truly kill me!” 

The twins looked at each other. They couldn’t comprehend a parent as vile, evil, and savage as Lucius Malfoy. “So…what’s got you down the most?” George asked slowly. “The fact that you’re afraid your dad will find out about you? Or the fact that you want to do something that you definitely don’t want him to find out about?” he said shrewdly.

“I…” Malfoy sniffled, casting his eyes down at the ground. “I can’t. I just can’t d-do anything like that. He’s sure to find out.”

Another silence, as the twins communicated with their eyes. Then Fred said: “There’s one way that you could guarantee that your dad won’t find out about you playing slap-and-tickle with another guy.” 

Malfoy blinked up at him with wet eyes. “How?” he nearly whispered, hope trying to rise up in his breast even though he knew that whatever Fred was talking about would probably not be workable. Fred grinned, surprising him. 

“Well, you need somebody to have a bit of fun with who won’t give away your secret,” he said reasonably. 

Malfoy shook his head slowly. “I don’t know anyone like that,” he replied doubtfully.

“Sure you do,” George said, his voice amused. “You know us.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco makes a decision.

Stunned silence. Malfoy gaped at both of them, not believing his ears. “Y-You…why would you do that?!” he cried at last, in true bewilderment. 

George grinned and shrugged. “Why not?” he countered. “You’re kinda cute, Malf. We wouldn’t mind shagging you. That is, if you’re interested? After all, you’ve said in the past that you don’t much like Weasleys.”

Draco felt a faint blush of shame rise in his cheeks. “I don’t…I don’t hate Weasleys,” he mumbled, staring at the ground. “I just…that is…” 

Fred laughed. “Don’t take anything that this lunk head says to heart, Malf,” he said in amusement. 

George punched him lightly in the arm as Malfoy blinked at this second use of a nickname. “Malf?” He repeated. 

“It’s a term of affection,” George replied merrily, his eyes twinkling. “Cause we like you, Git.” 

Draco didn’t know what to say to this. But he felt an unaccustomed fragile warmth rising inside his chest, and to the twins’ shock he actually smiled. It wasn’t a large smile, but there was nothing sneering or ugly about it either. It made him look both younger and more attractive, and they exchanged glances at this new side of the Slytherin boy. “So,” George said after a moment, “We’ll give you some time to think about whether you want to get with us. If you do want to, leave us a message saying so.” 

“How do I do that?” Malfoy asked, his pale brows knitting. “It isn’t as though I can come up to the Gryffindor common room and ask for you. Everyone would want to know what I was doing there.” 

“You got that right,” Fred replied, “And it wouldn’t be good for our credit to be seen with you in public, either. But it’s simple enough. Just write the word ‘yes’ on a piece of parchment and leave it in the tank of the third toilet in the second floor boys' bathroom. If you don’t want to, or you’re scared, just don’t bother to leave us a message at all. Got it?” 

Draco nodded. He was still dazed, not quite believing what the Weasley twins were actually offering him. He couldn’t say that he wasn’t attracted to them, either; ever since that time in the dungeon, many of his daydreams(and his night dreams, as well, especially the wet ones) had revolved around Fred and George Weasley. “Umm…If I do say yes, how would we…I mean, where would we…?” he looked at both of them in turn.

A pair of identical evil smiles spread over their faces. “You leave that to us, Malf,” George replied with a wink. “We know ever twist and turn in this castle. It won’t be a problem to find a place to go to be alone.” 

“Okay,” Draco nearly whispered. 

The twins nodded, satisfied. “We’ll be getting back to the castle now,” Fred said, “We have homework to do. See ya later, Git.” 

They left him standing beside the lake, strolling away together toward the school. Butterflies were dancing in Malfoy’s stomach. He turned to look at the smooth water of the lake, although he wasn’t seeing much of anything right now. He couldn’t believe the turn his abysmal luck had taken just now. The Weasley twins had actually hugged him! And then they’d offered to have sex with him, even though he knew that they didn’t always like him very much. It might just be pity sex, but that was better than nothing, wasn’t it? How else would he ever be able to indulge his desires without word getting back to his father? The twins were sly and clever. Plus, no one would ever suspect for one moment that they were fucking Draco Malfoy. Everyone knew that they didn’t like him for their brother’s sake – and that he, himself, loathed the Weasleys both as a whole and individually. Why would he ever let even one of them touch him, let alone two? This might be his only chance. But was he brave enough to do it, or was he too cowardly to take what he was being offered? He just didn’t know.

 

Several days passed. The twins kept an oblique eye on Draco Malfoy, although they made no move to actually speak to him. The choice was his, after all; they left him alone to make it on his own. They’d done their part to make up for what they’d done to him in the dungeon, and now it the snitch was in his path of flight. Whether he grabbed it or not was up to him. They did notice that he seemed a bit happier, anyway, since their talk by the lake. He wasn’t so withdrawn, and his pale eyes had lost the look of deep internal misery that had motivated them to speak with him in the first place. He had regained a bit of his strut, although that seemed more of an act than anything else anymore. They saw him in the halls with his two shadows Crabbe and Goyle, and if he shot them passing glances they were so quick that only the twins saw them. 

For his part, Draco was feeling much better. While he still hadn’t quite made up his mind whether to accept the twins’ offer, he still felt like a great weight that had been pressing on him had lifted. He had choices now, something he hadn’t had before. And – someone had actually been kind to him. Had shown him a bit of caring. While his mother did love him, she wasn’t a demonstrative woman. He hadn’t ever experienced anything like the easy affection that the twins had shown him, and it had flabbergasted him. He hadn’t grown up in as family whose members all loved one another, and showed that love easily. He was starved not only for sex, but also for affection. He hadn’t known that before now, nor did he consciously understand why he felt so good afterward.

 

He was sitting in Charms class one day, idly watching Professor Flitwick demonstrate the newest spell they were to learn. He twirled his quill pen between his fingers, his thoughts far away. It had been almost a week since his encounter with the Weasley twins down by the lake, and he still hadn’t quite made up his mind. This was a big step, after all; he didn’t want to make it carelessly or too quickly. For he knew somewhere inside of himself that he’d not only be losing his virginity to the twins, he’d be losing other things as well. That wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t gain other things in return; but he was still hesitant. Maybe it was just because he was a little afraid of the thought of actually having sex. He knew a bit about the sex act, but not much. And that was between boys and girls. Between two guys(or in this case, three) that was a bit different. Of course, the twins were obviously very experienced. They would be able to show him the ropes. But he still felt nervous. 

“Mr. Malfoy!” a high voice cried, and he blinked as he came back to reality to see the little professor staring up at him. “Is my lecture so boring that you can’t pay any attention to it at all?” he said severely.

Malfoy felt a faint flush of shame and embarrassment rise in his face as he heard Ron Weasley and Harry Potter laughing at him behind his back. His shoulders hunched, but he refused to turn around and glare at them. He conjured up an imitation of his usual sneer for Professor Flitwick. “Oh, no, Professor,” he said superciliously. “It’s really quite interesting. I’m riveted.” 

His cutting sarcasm would have gotten him at least a dozen detentions from Snape, but Flitwick merely frowned at him and said rebukingly:“Pay more attention, Mr. Malfoy, if you intend to pass this class.” And went back to his lecture where he’d left off. 

Malfoy tried to concentrate, but it wasn’t easy. His mind kept trying to wander. He was close to making his decision, he could feel it. This made him feel both excited and also rather scared. After class was over, he grabbed up his book bag, thrust his stuff into it, and nearly ran out of the room. He headed for the second floor bathroom, feeling his hands trembling from sheer nervousness. He darted inside, grateful to see that there were no other students in there at the moment. He hurried over to the third stall, locking the door behind him. He sat down on the closed lid, breathing rather heavily, his eyes closed. After a moment the shakes went away, and he felt a bit more centered. He rummaged in his bag for a quill pen, an inkwell, and a piece of parchment. Pulling them out, he laid the parchment on his knees. Uncapping the inkwell carefully, he dipped the quill pen into it. But then he hesitated again, thinking about just how irrevocable this act actually was. His whole life would change when he wrote a single word on the piece of parchment. It seemed momentous and Earth-shattering. He could just put all of this back in his bag, get up, and leave the bathroom. He never had to make this choice at all. He could go on being the fearful, repressed person he’d always been. Or he could take a chance, find his courage, and try something new. 

He bit at his lip a little, his hand wavering over the parchment. Then he lowered the pen and wrote YES in big letters right in the center of it. He waited for the ink to dry, his hands shaking again. Then he recapped the inkwell tightly, stowing it in his book bag. He wiped his quill pen carefully on a piece of blotting paper, then put that in his bag as well. He did all of this slowly, taking his time. Last but not least, he folded the parchment several times, and got up from the toilet seat. He turned around, lifted the lid of the tank, and pulled his wand from his pocket. He muttered a spell that would make sure the parchment clung to the side of the tank, above the water, until one of the twins used magic to remove it. He stared at it hard for a second, his shoulders tense, then he sighed and replaced the lid. He stepped away from the toilet, picked up his book bag, and left the bathroom. For good or ill, Draco Malfoy had made his choice. 

 

Nothing happened for what seemed like an eternity to him. He kept waiting for some sign that the twins had gotten his message, but he saw none. For two days he was on tenterhooks, becoming jumpy and nervous, his pale eyes seeking everywhere in the crowded halls for two tall forms and two caps of auburn hair. But while he saw them from a distance, that was all. He was beginning to think that he’d made that decision, and gone through all of that fear and soul-searching, for absolutely no reason. He started to feel glum and depressed once more, trailing around the halls of Hogwarts listlessly. Maybe, he thought, the twins had only made that suggestion as a way to torment him. Perhaps they’d been playing a game with their brother’s enemy. Most likely they were laughing their asses off at his expense. That had to be it… 

 

He was going to Defense Against the Dark Arts when someone bumped into him hard enough on the staircase that it staggered him. “Watch where you’re going, you little Oiker!” a voice barked, and he looked up in startlement into George Weasley’s face. 

Something was shoved into his hand in a lightning-fast maneuver, before the redhead winked at him very slightly and went his merry way. Malfoy stood frozen on the stairs for a moment, then pulled himself together enough to continue on toward his class. He had to pretend that he’d been more peeved than anything else about the Weasley twin plowing into him, and he managed to work up a complaint about it to his two companions. Once they were in class, he pulled his books out of his bag and piled them in front of him. Then he oh-so-carefully opened his hand to reveal the thing that George Weasley had thrust into it. It was folded bit of parchment. His breath came faster as he slowly unfolded it. The best part was that Crabbe and Goyle sat at desks flanking his, and those two could barely read. He had no worries about them reading over his shoulder as he perused the bit of parchment. He read it hurriedly, nonetheless. It said: Hey, Git. Sneak out tomorrow night and meet us up in the Aerie. And bring a blanket. We’ll get everything else we need. Just don’t get caught or let anybody see you. F & G

He read this short missive with his heart pounding, then folded the bit of parchment up quickly and stuffed it into his book bag. He couldn’t believe it! They hadn’t been playing a game with him after all. The entire class after that was a blur; he couldn’t have said what was talked about even under heavy torture. His steps were quick and light as he nearly ran out of class afterward. He was nearly bursting with excitement and happiness. He needed to go somewhere to recover his equilibrium a bit, or someone was bound to notice his uncharacteristic behavior. 

He just couldn’t contain himself at the moment. He ditched his friends, telling them that he’d forgotten a book he needed fro their next class. Then he hurried off to the Slytherin common room, which was empty at this time of day. He hurled himself down into one of the wing chairs near the cold fire place, hugging himself to try to contain everything he was feeling. Tomorrow night! So soon, and yet so far away, too. He’d have to get through all of today and tomorrow as though his life were normal, as though he didn’t have an illicit rendezvous with the Weasley twins to go to. That was going to be difficult. But he could do it. And he’d sneak out tomorrow night, go up to the Aerie, and meet the twins. After that - he shivered a little. So many images danced in his head. He remembered all too vividly what had happened in the dungeon. Would they do more? Would they actually –gulp – have sex? Well, he’d know tomorrow night. That was only one day (and an eternity) away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins show Draco a whole new world...

Draco Malfoy ghosted through the halls of Hogwarts, headed for the staircase that led to the aerie. His ears were tuned for any sound; if he got caught by Filch or seen by Peeves he’d be in big trouble. Sweat broke out on his brow as he slid along in the shadows whenever possible, trusting that the dark blanket he had thrown over his pajamas would help to hide him if he encountered the caretaker or his cat.

He froze as he heard a shuffling sound up ahead, and then darted into the space behind the statue of a great wizard that decorated the hallway. There was just enough space for him to crouch down there, trying not to breathe because it sounded too loud. He was sure that whoever was approaching would hear his panicked gasps and would pull him out of his hiding place, dragging him off for his punishment. After a moment, the person making the sound finally appeared around a corner. He had to bite his lip to keep in his groan, for it was none other than Argus Filch himself. The caretaker was moving slowly along, muttering to himself under his breath, his beady eyes sweeping the corridor as though he could see through stone. Malfoy shuddered silently. He was sure that he was dead; that Filch could indeed see right through the statue to where he was cowering on the floor in terror. And there, moving along at her master’s heels, was the grey cat Mrs. Norris. If Filch couldn’t spot him, that beast was sure to…. 

The caretaker had come abreast of his hiding place. Malfoy could now clearly hear what he was saying. “Wretched brats,” Filch snarled. “Always playing tricks on me. If I catch ‘em in the act this time, I’ll ask the headmaster if I can hang ‘em up by the heels in my closet….” 

Draco closed his eyes. He tried not to envision himself hanging upside down in the closet in Filch’s office for hours on end. He curled his fingers into the palms of his hands, feeling the sweat that slicked them. There was no way for him to convince the caretaker that he wasn’t the student playing tricks on him, not when he was already out of bed after hours. Now Filch’s skinny form was going by the statue, but he could clearly see a set of shadow-grey paws come to a stop beside the place where he was crouched. He tried not to breathe at all as the cat hesitated, and for a moment that felt like an eternity the beast remained still. He could just imagine her sniffing the air, trying to figure out where that strange scent was coming from… 

Mrs. Norris suddenly went on, moving to catch up with her master as he continued on his way. All of Malfoy’s muscles went slack at the same moment from sheer relief, and he nearly oozed into a puddle on the floor. He waited long enough for Filch to reach another cross section and turn left, then he scurried out of hiding and bolted down the hall at a near run. His nerve had broken, and he really didn’t care if Peeves saw him right now and roused the whole school. He reached the stairs to the aerie, and took them two at a time in spite of the fact that his breath was laboring in his chest. He panted as he lunged upward wildly, and he finally turned the last bend in the stair and headed for the landing with a feeling a sheer relief.

He emerged into The Aerie like a missile, seeing that the room seemed empty except for the owls and other birds on their perches. Many of the perches were empty, since owls were nocturnal hunters and were out looking for food. Malfoy stood heaving for breath, his hands on his knees, which were threatening to give out. He stared around, but didn’t see any sign of the twins. Was he too early? Or were the Weasleys playing a far more elaborate game with him? Would they make him wait up here for hours, shivering in the cold, while they lay in their beds in the Gryffindor tower and laughed at him? He straightened up a bit, slowly, wondering how long he should wait before leaving. He decided to spread the blanket on the cold stone floor and sit on it for awhile, waiting to see if the twins actually showed up or not. 

 

He sat down on the blanket, huddling his knees to his chest and hugging them with his arms. The birds he’d disturbed relaxed after a moment, and only soft rustlings and hootings betrayed their presence to the waiting Slytherin boy. He set his head on his knees, feeling lonely and forlorn. Had he been played for a fool? But what else could he expect from the Weasley twins, after all? He should have known not to hope for better. He fell into a light doze, and had a strange dream in which he was riding a cloud through the wide blue sky with two identical red heads sitting on either side of him. They were laughing, and as he looked from one to the other, a set of hands hit his shoulder and pushed him off the cloud. He fell downward, terror clogging his throat, and their laughter followed after him…

He awoke with a start, to find that at least some of the dream was real. There was a Weasley twin sitting on either side of him on the blanket, watching him sleep. “Well, it’s about time,” Fred said as he lifted his head and blinked muzzily at the pair of them. “We were just going to whack you upside the head to wake you up. But we didn’t want to, since you were sleeping so peacefully.”

“Yeah, sweet as a baby kitten,” George remarked sardonically. “You’re awfully cute when your mouth is closed, Git.” 

Malfoy didn’t know what to say. He was just so elated that this wasn’t a trick after all that he could have wept. In fact, he blinked moisture away hurriedly as he sat up rather stiffly. “I…” he rubbed at his eyes. Fred hit him on the back in a friendly cuff, nearly bowling him over. “Great, you brought the blanket,” he said. “Come on then, Malf. We’ll show you the place where we like to take our ‘friends’.” 

He winked as he stood up. George also scrambled up, and the two of them both put out a hand to pull Draco to his easily. He swayed a little, still rather out of it. But the hands held him up, and he steadied after a moment. They left the aerie, Malfoy’s legs trembling a little from sheer nervousness. His hands twisted in the front of his pajamas as he went with the twins back down the stairs. The two led him down a path that he never could have remembered no matter how hard he tried. The Weasleys really did seem to know every twist and turn in the castle, taking him unerringly to a closed door on the second floor. 

“Here we are,” George said ceremoniously, opening the door and waving Draco in. 

The Slytherin entered, finding himself in an unused classroom. From the dust on the desks, it hadn’t been used in a long time. To one side, on the floor, the twins had made a sort of make-shift bed. It consisted of a pile of cloaks, sheets and other odds and ends. He could see this because mage lights were burning in a ring around the bed. A crate sat beside it, and food and drink pilfered from the kitchens was laid out on top of the crate. A hand in the middle of his back made him stumble forward, as one of the twin’s cheerful voices hissed: “Get in there, Git, we can’t stand out here all night.”

Malfoy walked into the classroom as the twins followed after him and shut the door behind them. “Here we are, then,” George said as he walked over to the make-shift bed. He draped the blanket that Malfoy had smuggled out of his dorm over the top of it triumphantly. Then he turned to the pale-haired boy standing so still behind him, as Fred also turned his attention to Draco. “Well, then,” George began. “Here’s where we ask you what it is you really want, Malf. Do you want a repeat of the dungeon? Or more? Do you want us to shag you? It’s up to you.” 

They both looked at him, waiting for his answer. Malfoy felt frozen with panic. His pale eyes went from one of their faces to the other, as he tried to decide just what it was that he really did want. He’d really enjoyed what had happened in the dungeon – and if he said that that was all he wanted, then they could stick to something safe like that. But if he decided that he wanted more…then they could actually…have sex. He was a pale, nervous, sweaty virgin as he struggled to decide just what it was he really did want. After all, this would be irrevocable if he did have sex with the Weasley twins. But the truth was…hadn’t it really been irrevocable yesterday when he’d written ‘yes’ on that piece of parchment? He’d made his choice then, knowing that there was no going back. “I-If it’s all right,” he stuttered, making his tongue work only with an effort, “I’d like the second choice, please.” 

The twins exchanged glances, then grinned at him. “Shagging it is, then,” George said with satisfaction. “Come here, Git,” he added, holding out a hand. 

As one in a daze, Malfoy walked over the stone floor that separated himself from the Weasley twins. When he was within reach, they each snagged a bit of his pajama top and pulled him closer. George did what he’d done down in the dungeon, bending his head to kiss Malfoy deeply. Draco moaned, all his nervousness forgotten as he wound his arms with some difficulty around the tall redhead’s neck. A tongue glided into his mouth, and he was so distracted by this that he never even registered when a set of nimble fingers began to undo the buttons of the front of the pajama top.

Fred managed to get them all undone as George continued to feast on Draco’s mouth, teaching the Slytherin boy how to kiss. Malfoy only became aware that the front of his top was unbuttoned when one of Fred’s hands gliding inside to find and pinch one of his pale pink nipples. He cried out in shock and pleasure into George’s muffling mouth, then did so again as Fred’s free hand slid under the waistband of the bottoms to close over his ass and begin to lightly squeeze and fondle the cheeks.

George finally released Malfoy’s mouth. Both of them looked at the pale pink flush that had spread up the smaller boy’s pointed face, and their eyes gleamed. Draco found himself urged over to the make shift bed, two sets of hands gently pushing him down. Then they began to strip off his pajamas, as his face flamed in embarrassment. He wanted to clutch at his clothing as Fred lifted his hips so that the redhead could pull the pajama bottoms off of them, but George grabbed his hands and held them, lifting them so that he could suck a finger into his mouth. 

This so distracted Malfoy that he laid there while the bottoms were stripped off altogether and thrown away on the floor. Now naked, the Slytherin boy blushed furiously as the Weasley twins considered his body. Slim, with long legs and acres of pale skin, Malfoy’s naked form was surprisingly pretty. The pale blonde hair curling at his groin clustered around the slender wand of a cock that Fred had sucked off down in the dungeon. It was already twitching with excitement, pre cum dribbling from the dark-pink tip. The twins were practically licking their lips in anticipation. “Nice,” George said approvingly, looking into Draco’s eyes. 

He felt a shiver of pleasure at the sincere admiration there, for no one had ever looked at him quite like this before. The twins divided their attention. Fred went for the head this time, while George took the other direction. Malfoy found himself being kissed again, this time by Fred. The other boy sucked on his tongue, making him moan loudly. At the same time, he felt a mouth gliding over the skin of his stomach, making the muscles jump. George licked a trail over his lower stomach until he reached the curling blonde pubic hair. Then he made a sound, and Fred abandoned Draco’s mouth and slid down and away so that George could have a clear view of Malfoy’s face. 

With an internal grin, George moved down to encase the pretty wand of a cock in his mouth, rolling his eyes up to watch Malfoy’s reaction. He was rewarded with the sight of the Slytherin boy’s back arching and his mouth opening wide, as a loud cry rang out through the deserted classroom and Draco’s eyes nearly rolled up into his head. Slim hips lunged upwards as George put his considerable cock sucking skills to use, while Fred bent his head and began to lap at one of the pale pink nipples at the same time. Malfoy gasped and cried out deliriously as the twins began to work him over once more. Sparks of pleasure shot from his nipple down to his groin, to join the heavier ones caused by George’s ministrations down there.

As his head began to bob expertly, George’s tongue swirled the length of the shaft caressingly. Malfoy squirmed and writhed desperately, heaving up to push more of himself into the warmth mouth taking him in so sweetly, as Fred slid his tongue in a moist trail across Draco’s chest to begin assaulting his other nipple tenderly. A long-fingered hand closed over his balls, squeezing them lightly in time with George’s insistent sucking. Draco could take no more of this; he wailed his pleasure to the still class room as he came, spurting into the encasing mouth as George swallowed in the back of his throat. 

Malfoy went limp in the aftermath of his climax, his eyes starting sightlessly at the ceiling over head as both of the twins lifted their heads to look down at him. They exchanged smug glances, both grinning. Then they began to take off their own clothing, revealing leanly-muscular bodies to each other without shame. They tended to double up on any lover who would take both of them willingly. So they were used to seeing each other naked even in circumstances such as these. 

Once they were nude, they stretched out on either side of Malfoy and began to lick the sweat off of his pale skin like cats with a bowl of cream. Draco moaned in both pleasure and protest and their tongues glided over his skin. It was over-sensitized in the wake of his orgasm, and he would have escaped from this pleasurable torture if he could have. But he had no strength left in his muscles, so he could only make low sounds as the twins lazily nibbled at his collarbones, then ghosted down to attend to his now jutting nipples. Fred bit softly at his, while George lapped at the rucked nub under his tongue in long strokes. Malfoy arched his back a little, biting at his lip, gasping helplessly. Hands slid down his stomach, both closing over his limp cock in tandem. They stroked together in a coordinated effort, and the Slytherin boy groaned in near painful pleasure as they coaxed his penis back into erection skillfully.

He found himself being rolled over onto his stomach. He moaned as his newly-erect cock pressed against the fabric of the blanket, as the twins’ mouths began to slide down the skin of his back. Fred and George licked and bit at the pale skin, sometimes sucking hickies out of the skin just to hear their new lover yelp or wail. Malfoy’s fingers closed tightly in the fabric of the blanket, turning white and bloodless as he gripped at it desperately. Hands kneaded the cheeks of his ass as the twins finally arrived at the small tight derriere. Fingers spread the cheeks wide, and Draco made a puzzled sound. Then his head flew up, his eyes wide, as a wild cry was torn from his throat. A tongue had swirled down between the cheeks and was lapping at the tiny puckered pink ring of tissue between them. Cry after cry was torn from his throat as Malfoy jerked and flailed under the unbelievable, almost unbearable pleasure of the very intimate kiss taking place down there. The tongue swirled over the delicate, twitching tissue, then laved at it in long licks.

But his cries were muffled as Fred reappeared at his head, gripping the back of it with his hand as he closed his mouth over Malfoy’s in a long kiss. The Slytherin boy was losing his mind as George’s tongue sank into his body, and at the same time Fred’s slid into his mouth. Whimpers of pleasure were lost in Fred’s kiss, and his fingers spasmed helplessly as the tongue within his body moved in a near corkscrew motion. 

When they finally abandoned both ends of him, poor Malfoy collapsed limply onto the blanket as he struggled even to breathe. His eyes were blank, as his mind had decided to take a vacation. The fingers were back. He made a tiny sound as one of them slid into him, something slick coating it. It wormed its way into his body, as Fred moved around to kneel in front of him. The auburn haired boy set his fingers under Draco’s chin and lifted it. His other hand was stroking his own erection. “Listen, Malf," he said to the pale haired boy, “I want you to suck me. All right? Open your mouth wide, and try not to scrape me with your teeth. I don’t expect you to be an expert – just try it. Okay?” 

Draco stared up at him, but finally nodded silently. Fred smiled, positioning himself so that his groin was level with Malfoy’s mouth. Tentatively he opened his mouth, going nearly cross eyed as he watched the approach of the cock that seemed much larger than his own. It touched his lips, then the tip slid inside. He made a choked, muffled sound, unsure about what to do and also rather scared. Fingers stroked through his hair tenderly as Fred looked down at him. “Use your tongue on it,” he instructed Draco, who did as he said. 

The head tasted strange and slick under his tongue, and he also tasted Fred’s pre cum in his mouth as he tried to lick at the tip of the auburn-haired boy’s cock as best he could. He was so involved with what he was doing that he barely felt another finger slide into his body, both of them beginning to move strongly within him. They scissored within him, widening and stretching him, but Malfoy was too busy trying to learn to suck cock that he barely felt anything. He seemed to be getting the hang of it, and his hands moved to clutch at Fred’s leanly powerful thighs as he tried to suck harder.

“That’s great,” Fred crooned, still stroking his fingers through the pale hair on Draco’s head. “Now move your head back and forth a bit. Swallow in the back of your throat, it’ll help to move you past your gag reflex.” 

Malfoy tried to follow his instructions, although he choked and cried out when a third finger suddenly joined the other two still moving in him. George stilled his fingers for a moment as his brother grimaced in pain, for Draco’s teeth had closed a bit in reflex action rather painfully on the sensitive skin of his cock. “Open your mouth wider,” he gasped to the Slytherin boy. “That’s better,” he sighed in relief as Malfoy managed to open his mouth again. “Move when you want to,” he added, as they both gave Draco time to recover.

The sting from the three fingers faded at last, and Malfoy sighed as he began to move his mouth back and forth a bit. His jaw was beginning to hurt, but he was determined to do this right. George flexed the three fingers, but Draco only made a small sound around Fred’s cock. They began to move in and out of him in rhythm with his own head, as he finally got the hang of this particular specialized skill. Fred was groaning, although he occasionally gasped out a direction or an approving word or two. George was twisting the three fingers within him, and Malfoy moaned around his mouthful of hard flesh in pleasure. 

Finally they were pulled out, and something larger took their place. It was very slick, and it butted up against his anus for a moment. Then George gave several clever thrusts, and the head of his cock sank into Draco’s tight ass. He froze as Malfoy gasped in pain, his fingers closing hard in the flesh of Fred’s thighs. Malfoy’s head had still as he tried to adjust to the feel of the big, thick foreign object that had been thrust into his body. Only the head was in, but it both hurt and burned. He took long, deep panting breaths around Fred’s cock, as the other boy also remained still. 

But after a minute or so, he felt the ebbing of the discomfort. Slowly he began to move his head again, trying to concentrate on the cock in his mouth rather than the one in his ass. George took that as a sign to move, and pushed another inch of himself into Malfoy’s tight body. His teeth were gritted as he fought against the urge to just thrust himself inside in one stroke, for it felt so damn good! But not only did he not want to hurt Malfoy, he knew that his twin wouldn’t thank him if he gave Draco another reason to bite down in shock. He stopped once more, taking his time, letting Malfoy get used to having someone inside of him. Fred struggled to be patient as well, for the Slytherin boy halted his sucking every time that George pushed further into him. 

Finally George was fully seated in the pale, tight body under him, and he halted for the last time. Malfoy felt so full that he could barely stand it. But at the same time, under the stretching and slight discomfort, was the promise of pleasure. He struggled to adjust to the burning spike driven into his body, and they both knew that he had when his tongue moved caressingly down Fred’s cock. When his twin groaned, George pulled back a little and then pushed back in. Draco made a small sound, but continued with his fellatio. 

Slowly but surely George stroked into the tight body writhing under him, as Fred began to move his hips a little as well. Draco had learned enough that he didn’t choke when the auburn-haired boy pushed more of himself into Malfoy’s mouth, and Fred was careful never to push too much of himself into the inexperienced boy’s mouth. Together he and his brother took pleasure from the Slytherin’s body, as Draco learned about the pleasures of the flesh at the twins’ hands. 

George moaned, looking at his brother’s face. Fred’s eyes were closed, and his lips were moving a little as his cock sank once more into the pretty mouth of the boy sucking at him. George shivered, then jinked his hips a bit. He stroked in harder than he had so far, and he heard a satisfyingly loud shriek(even muffled by Fred’s erection) as he nailed the Slytherin boy’s prostate head on. Wail after choked wail was drawn from Draco’s throat as George began to pound him from behind, hitting his prostate almost every time. Each of his cries vibrated around Fred’s cock, making the auburn-haired boy make some sounds of pleasure of his own. He was going to come soon; he could feel it. His eyes flew open, and met George’s. From the way his brother’s face was contorted, Fred knew that he was also going to come. As one, they moved in and out of Draco’s ass and mouth. They never looked away from each other as they moved toward their mutual peaks. 

George slid a hand under Malfoy’s belly and grabbed his straining cock, even as he continued to plow into the Slytherin’s tight ass. He stroked it hard, wanting to bring Draco along with he and his brother when they came. Malfoy screamed as fingers dug in under the head of his erection, and his whole body tightened up. His back arched, and he came violently under George’s coaxing hand and the cock that thrust into him one last time. 

George cried out himself as he climaxed, his semen spurting into the other boy’s ass as his head went back. At the same time, Fred choked Draco for a moment as he pushed almost all of himself into the younger boy’s mouth. Then he pulled out, his hand grabbing his own cock as he came all over Draco’s face with a loud yell of pleasure. 

Malfoy had fallen forward onto the blanket, unable to move a muscle. Their gasping cries for breath were the only sounds in the room for awhile. The twins recovered first, stirring a bit as they looked at each other once again. They silently communicated just how good that had been, and how much they’d enjoyed it. Then they looked down at the sprawled figure of their new lover, who was a boneless panting heap on the blanket. Who would have known that the irritating Slytherin boy who was their brother’s nemesis would prove to be such a good lay? This decision of theirs to provide Draco Malfoy with what he needed on the sly was turning out to be a very good one on their part. The immediate future looked very promising. 

They moved almost as one, fetching a cloth and some water to clean themselves and Draco up. Then they crawled onto the make shift bed on either side of Malfoy, who was just now starting to come back to reality. The twins snuggled him in between their still naked bodies, letting him feel the warmth of their bare skin. George nuzzled the back of the Slytherin boy’s neck with his nose, while Fred lightly kissed his face. “So did you enjoy that, Git?” George murmured lazily. 

Draco blinked. His body was already starting to feel sore, but it also felt languid and relaxed. That had been so good! He nodded silently in answer to George’s question, too tired and out of it to speak just yet. He heard identical chuckles from either side of him as strong arms twined over his body from both directions. He fell asleep then, lulled by being held in the wake of his intense orgasm, feeling both peaceful and happier than he had ever been before in his young life.


	5. Hey, Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco finds that he's become jealous and possessive of his lovers. But does he even have the right to feel that way? And how do the twins feel about the whole thing?

Draco was walking the halls of Hogwarts a month later, going to his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He looked down his nose superciliously at a first year Hufflepuff girl, and she scurried away from him. Draco Malfoy appeared as lordly and stuck up as he’d always been, with his two hulking shadows trailing after him. But inside, he was a completely different person. His behavior was mostly an act now, and one he put on deliberately so that no one would notice the changes in him. Not that his two friends were smart enough to notice, but there were others in Slytherin who were quite clever. And if they ever found out that he was having sex with not one but two Gryffindor boys, there was no telling what they’d do to him. Not to mention that they might tell their own parents, who’d promptly inform HIS parents. And that would bring about just the outcome he feared. So he had to act like the person he’d always been, which wasn’t easy. It got harder all the time, in fact, to act snooty and sour and unpleasant. He was just so HAPPY.

He would rather have danced and sang as he walked the halls, and show his joy for all to see. He felt almost giddy all the time now, and fighting to keep a goofy grin off of his face was a severe trial for him. It wasn’t just the sex – although that was fabulous. It was the attention the twins heaped on him, and the affection. Although he was sure that they were this way with all of their lovers, it was still a first for him. They hugged him often, and made him laugh, and just generally showed him far more attention than he’d ever received from anyone before. And he was blossoming under that attention, like a parched plant that had finally felt the touch of rain. He couldn’t believe how much he’d changed in the last month, and it was all due to the Weasley twins. He’d never be able to thank them enough.

As he outwardly sniggered at a student who’d just tripped and fallen over his own school bag, inwardly Draco Malfoy was thinking about the fact that he was pretty sure that he was falling in love. Not with just one of the Weasley twins, but with both of them. He couldn’t help it; he knew that they were only doing him a favor, and getting a bit of pleasure out of it themselves, and that most likely they considered him only their most recent lay and nothing more. Yes, he knew all that. But he still couldn’t stop his treacherous heart from turning their way. And he had the awful thought that he’d still be in love with the twins long after he was only a vague memory of someone they’d shagged at school to them. But that was a pain he’d have to endure only in the future, and for now he just wanted to enjoy the present. 

He was almost to his classroom when he heard a familiar laugh. He looked up, seeing a tall, auburn-haired boy talking to a girl on the staircase. George Weasley was laughing at whatever the girl was saying, and his manner toward her was flirtatious and charming. And she, in turn, was practically batting her eyes at him. Draco came to an abrupt halt at this sight, shock coursing through him. Crabbe almost ran into him as a result, but he couldn’t seem to get his frozen limbs to move. All he could do was gape at the sight of one of his lovers making up to someone else in plain sight. Fury suddenly rose up in his breast, a jealous seething anger. He wanted to run up the stairs, to grab the hand that the girl had just laid on George’s arm and fling it away. He wanted to scream at her to keep her hands off of him, that George Weasley was his! 

He was trembling with it, and also with the sick feeling that accompanied it. Because he didn’t have the right to do any such thing. The twins had made no vows to him, no commitments; they owed him nothing, certainly not faithfulness. They could shag half the school if they wanted to, and he could say nothing. He dragged his eyes away from the tableau on the stairs, his mouth thinning, and stiffly made himself walk away without looking back. That was none of his business, none at all.

 

“What’s wrong with our Git?” George asked Fred the next day. The two boys were on their way to Quidditch practice after classes. Both of them had noticed how withdrawn and quiet the Slytherin boy had been last night, although he’d responded in his normal manner to their kisses and caresses. But afterward, when they all usually snuggled up together on the blanket mound in the deserted classroom, Draco hadn’t said much, and he’d turned his face away as though he were trying to conceal his expression from the twins.

“Dunno,” Fred replied. “He was all right the day before yesterday. It must have been something that happened yesterday to set him off.” 

“I wonder what,” George mused. But neither had any ideas, so they shelved the problem for now and concentrated on practice instead. 

 

Draco stood on the lake shore once more, looking down into the darkening water. While he didn’t feel the despair that he had the last time he’d stood here, sadness and depression hung heavy on him. He’d tried to act normal last night, to be as he always had, but every time that they touched him all he could think about was the other boys and girls that the twins had been with. He would never have imagined that he was of such a jealous nature. He found that he didn’t want to share them with anyone else. Greedy of him, he knew, but that was how he felt.

He shivered a little, for the wind was cool. He felt moisture trickle down his cheeks, and he lifted a slim hand to brush away the tears. Bleakly he thought to himself that he was coming to the conclusion that he’d have to break it off with the twins. That he’d be miserable if he continued this way, uncertain and unhappy, always thinking about their other lovers. Always wallowing in the throes of jealousy, knowing that he didn’t have the right to feel that way but unable to stop himself. He bit his lip. Much as he’d miss the sex, and the closeness he’d enjoyed with them, he didn’t think that he’d be able to stand the double playacting for long. Pretending to be the old Draco Malfoy during the day, and also pretending that he was happy and carefree when he was with the twins…it would be too much for him. He just couldn’t take the thought of it. So much as it would break his heart, he’d have to tell the twins that he didn’t want to meet them at night anymore.

It had all been a wonderful dream, but now it was time to wake up again. He should have known that someone like him wasn’t destined to be happy for long. He was going to be miserable one way or another, but at least if he ended it he wouldn’t have to try to act happy. He could grieve in private, away from two pairs of sharp all-seeing eyes. And while he would have liked a few more days, or weeks, together with the twins, he also knew that the best way was to do it as soon as possible, not drag it out. For the longer he did so, the harder it would be to walk away. And he’d be in torment all the time he was with Fred and George, knowing that he’d soon be alone again – by his own choice, which would make it even worse. He’d have to tell them tonight. 

He’d always wondered about how a person who broken-hearted would feel. Having never given his to anyone else before, it had never been a real problem. But now his heart felt like it was shattering in his chest. He put his hands over his face, and began to weep in earnest. There was no one here to see him, after all. He could cry out his pain in peace, and afterward he’d return to the castle and go back to pretending that he was his old, normal self. 

 

The twins left Quidditch practice, carrying their brooms over their shoulders jauntily. They were laughing together over something that had happened at practice, walking in a leisurely fashion back toward the castle. Fred just happened to glance to the right as they approached the main doors, and he came to an abrupt halt. His brother almost went on without him, because he hadn’t expected Fred to stop. “What’s the matter?” George asked. 

“Look,” Fred said, pointing down toward the lake in the gathering dusk. “Isn’t that our Git?” he asked. 

George squinted against the gathering dark, but there was no mistaking that almost platinum-blonde head of hair. “What’s he doing down there again?” he asked aloud.

Neither one could forget the fact that the last time they’d trailed Malfoy down to the lake shore, he’d been miserably looking down into the water as though he were contemplating throwing himself into it. It wasn’t Malfoy’s normal behavior to go down to the lake. The twins exchanged worried glances, then strode together down toward the water, and the slim figure standing so still beside it.

Malfoy only became aware of their presence when a hand clapped him on the shoulder. He jumped about a foot in the air, and a cold chill went up his spine as a familiar cheerful voice asked: “Wotcha, Malf? Did you decide to take a dip or something?” 

He looked up into George Weasley’s face, then hurriedly away. But it was too late; even in the gathering gloom, the Gryffindor boy had seen the marks of tears on his cheeks, and the fact that his eyes were red from crying. His fingers tightened on his smaller lover’s narrow shoulder. “What’s the matter, Malfoy?” he asked more gently, those fingers beginning to stroke over the fabric of Draco’s robe almost tenderly.

Draco huddled into himself, and his voice was hoarse when he answered. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said. But this was so clearly a lie that both of the twins frowned a little.

“Aww, common, you can tell us.” Fred said wheedlingly. “What’s bothering you? What happened yesterday?” he added shrewdly, and both of them saw the way Malfoy started at his words. 

“I…I have something to tell you both,” the Slytherin boy said, trying to pull himself together. 

“What?” George asked warily, not liking the tone of their lover’s voice. 

“I decided…that I don’t need you guys anymore,” Malfoy lifted his chin proudly as he turned around, trying to look at them both steadily without letting his eyes waver. “I’m really grateful for all you did for me,” he continued, “But I’ll be okay now. Y-You don’t have to bother with me, I don’t need your help.”

Silence. Both of the twins’ brows had risen at this speech, and in the slightly trembling tone of voice it was given in. “So you’re saying you don’t want us to shag you anymore?” Fred said in clarification. 

Malfoy nodded tightly. “Yes. I don’t,” he said, trying to sound firm but mostly having it come out as rather forlorn.

They studied his pale, pointed face, trying to read the other boy. Finally, George said slowly: “So something that happened yesterday set you off, and you’ve decided you don’t want to be with us anymore. Just what was it, Malf? What’s got you so worked up? And why were you crying?” he added ruthlessly, trying to get Draco to crack. 

“I wasn’t crying!” Malfoy protested loudly, earning him two identical skeptical looks.

“Sure,” Fred replied sardonically. “You just rubbing pepper sauce in your eyes, right? That’s why they’re all red?” 

Malfoy felt his shoulders hunching defensively. “I just don’t want to be with you anymore, all right!” he yelled, taking a step back in preparation to fleeing altogether.

But they moved to make sure that he couldn’t leave, and both crossed their arms over their chests. “No, it’s not all right,” George said sternly. “Just tell us why you don’t wanna be with us anymore, and then we’ll let you go. Otherwise, we can stand here all night.”

Malfoy glared impotently at them, but the twins were incredibly stubborn. They might just keep him out here until someone came looking for them, and then he’d have to explain why he was standing out in the dark with the Weasley twins when he should have been in the Slytherin dormitory. And he had on good explanation for that, none at all. He dropped his eyes, staring mutinously at the ground. “I saw you,” he pointed to George unerringly, for over the last month he’d come to finds that he could almost always tell the twins part – “Talking to a Ravenclaw girl on the stairs yesterday. You were flirting with her,” his voice was dull and tired. “I-I know that you guys are only doing me a favor, that you can do what you want, but I can’t…” he reached up to wipe at more tears that were escaping, struggle as he might to contain them. “I can’t stand the fact that you’re sleeping with other people. I just can’t. I tried, but…” he lifted his shoulders in a hopeless gesture. “So I can’t be with you anymore. I just can’t stand it,” he repeated, sounding utterly miserable. 

The twins exchanged eloquent glances. “So you’re jealous, Malf?” Fred said. “You don’t want us to shag anybody else while we’re with you?” 

The blonde head dipped in a small nod. Silence – then Malfoy’s head flew up, hurt in his pale eyes, when the twins both laughed heartily. “You’re too cute, Git,” George said merrily. 

“What’s so funny!” Malfoy cried, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He was suffering – and they were LAUGHING at him?

Fred waved his hands in front of him, trying not to howl at the expression on Malfoy’s face. “No, no,” he said, getting his breath back. “We’re not laughing at you, really. But the thing is – we’re not with anybody but you, Malf. We swear,” he made a cross over his heart mock-solemnly. 

Malfoy stared at them. “You’re not?” he said, dumbfounded.

George shook his head. “Nah. You’re plenty, Malf,” he said with a wink. “You keep us tired enough we don’t need to go looking for somebody else.”

“And if we ever decide to go looking for somebody else, we promise to tell you before-hand,” Fred added. “That’s only fair to you.”

Malfoy looked from one to the other, but while they were good at certain types of deceit, the twins weren’t outright liars. And they were trustworthy; he’d discovered that over the last month, since they’d kept his secret so assiduously. If they said that they weren’t with anyone else, he couldn’t help but believe them. It was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds within him. “Okay,” he said aloud, and the happiness in his voice was clear. They smiled at him, amused and rather touched by the vulnerability displayed by a boy they’d once thought of as a total little git. He had become human to them, and a human they rather liked, as well. 

Two sets of hands reached out and reeled Malfoy in, and he went willingly into their embrace. “So tonight’s on, then?” George rumbled, his finger stroking through platinum hair caressingly. 

“Oh, yes,” breathed Malfoy, closing his eyes as he let himself relax into his lovers’ arms. “Oh, yes.”


	6. I Will Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life turns difficult for Draco...

Malfoy stood in the unused class room that had been the scene of so many interludes between himself and his lovers, watching the twins pack. He felt sick to his stomach, grief and sadness a cloying lump in his throat. It was hard to believe that he and the Weasley twins had been together for over a year now – and even harder to believe that Fred and George were leaving Hogwarts for good. He didn’t want to lose them. But there was no other choice, for the twins had reached the limits of their patience with the school and most especially with the nasty teacher Dolores Umbridge. It wasn’t as though they had to stay – they had the money that Harry Potter had given them from the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and they had heads full of ideas for their new company Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. There was no real reason for them to remain at the school anymore. No real reason…Except for the fact that their lover Draco Malfoy knew that his heart was going to break the moment that the twins flew away from Hogwarts.

But they didn’t know that; he’d carefully concealed what he was feeling from Fred and George; because he knew that their decision was for the best. Besides, he didn’t want to look like a clingy little cry baby. He’d been lucky; Draco had had this wonderful last year, and he’d use those memories to keep him going when the twins’ absence became very hard for him to bear. He’d even made it possible for them to leave with a splash, and had become very adept at hiding his own heartbreak.

After all this time as Fred and George’s lover, Malfoy still had no idea if they felt anything for him besides lust and a kind of paternal affection. That’s why he’d never confessed just how he felt about the twins to them. Now he’d never get the chance, for they were leaving Hogwarts forever. Once they were in the outside world, they’d most likely forget him and move on. At least he’d have his memories of the happiest time of his life, on matter what else happened.

“Done,” Fred remarked in satisfaction, sitting back on his heels. “So come tomorrow, we’re outta here. I can’t wait, personally.”

Malfoy’s lips compressed at this casually hurtful statement, and he looked away to conceal the sheen of tears in his eyes. He heard George say rebukingly to his brother: “Oh. Come on, Fred. Don’t tell me there aren’t lots of things that you’ll miss about Hogwarts, cause I won’t believe you.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” his twin agreed easily. “We mustn’t let the bad times we’ve been having lately make us forget the good, eh? Speaking of which…” there was silence for a moment then Malfoy was surprised when two sets of strong arms closed over him.

Noses were nuzzled into his pale blonde hair, as George said in his ear: “You’re one of the things that we’ll miss, Malf, definitely. Wish we could take you with us.” 

Draco felt his heart swell at these words, and this time the tears that prickled his eyes were happy ones. “I wish you could, too,” he choked out. 

“Yeah, but you have to stay and finish your education. You’re not like us,” Fred remarked seriously. “But you’ll be fine, Malf, you’ll see. You’re tougher than you think. This year will fly by, and I’m sure that next year will be better for you.”

George licked a trail along Draco’s ear, making him shiver. “What do you say to one last goodbye shag, Git? Something to remember us by?” he asked. 

Fred was already pulling at Malfoy’s robes with nimble fingers. The platinum-haired boy submitted eagerly to their attentions, wanting this last good memory to bulwark himself with against the rest of this horrid year. As they descended onto the familiar pile of blankets, he buried his face in George’s neck and clung tightly one last time to the only two people that he really loved in the whole world.

 

Draco stood at the front of the crowd the nest day, watching the pair of brooms as they zipped up into the air of the great hall and circled once or twice overhead. He saw the shock on the faces of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger across the way as they watched the Weasley twins leave Hogwarts forever. The lump in his throat swelled until it nearly choked him, and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest to try to contain himself. He was sure that his posture and expression made him look supercilious, not grief-stricken, but then he’d worked hard and long to conceal his emotions where the twins were concerned. No one would know that Draco Malfoy was the most miserable person in Hogwarts at this moment, nor that all he wanted to do was break down and cry. He heard the murmurs as Fred and George swooped away at last, and his fingers dug into his skin through the fabric of his robes. The pinching pain helped, if only a little.

 

Later on, Draco would try his best to forget the rest of that year. It was so ghastly that one horrible day seemed to blend into the next. His loneliness ate at him; his bed seemed cold and empty at night. He would pull the covers over his head and sob, his body shaking as he mourned his loss. His days were made dull by acute depression, and the need to go on pretending that everything was fine. He flinched sometimes when he received glares from Harry Potter or Ron Weasley, who blamed him for the twins’ precipitous departure from the school. How he would have loved to shout at them that no one wanted Fred and George here at Hogwarts more than he did! But he couldn’t do that, so he suffered in silence. 

Finally, the year was done, and he could depart for home with a sigh of relief. Much as he didn’t always like his parents, at least his house wasn’t full of memories of his lovers like the halls of Hogwarts was. But there was something else at his home, he discovered. Or SOMEONE else, anyway. Voldemort. The Dark Lord had moved into his family mansion. His horror at discovering this was made even greater by the demands that the evil, twisted creature began to make. First and foremost was the one that sickened Draco to his soul – Voldemort wanted him to kill Albus Dumbledore. He couldn’t protest or say no, not with those red, slitted eyes watching him. His parents would pay the price for any disobedience on his part. 

After this ‘request’ was made, Draco ran up the stairs to his room and locked himself in. He stood with his back to the door, trembling, small sounds being dragged from his throat. There was nothing else to do – he would have to find a way to kill the headmaster. The horror he felt at this thought made him stagger a few steps forward and heave his guts up all over the floor of his room. Oh, Merlin, how he wished he could talk to the twins now! He knew they’d give him good advice about what to do. Or at least would lend him sympathetic ears as he poured out his woes to them. But there was no way he could contact Fred and George without getting both himself and them into terrible trouble. He was on his own, just as he always had been before the twins. He would have to do the best he could.

But how could he kill Dumbledore? How could he kill anyone! He wasn’t a murderer, or evil like the horrible being sitting down at their dining room table. The headmaster had always been fairly good to him. To repay that kindness with a bloody death was just unthinkable. 

 

Draco wondered if he’d go mad sometime in the coming year, having to live with this burden all the time. Returning to Hogwarts should have been some kind of relief from the tension and fear at home. But not when he had this awful secret burdening him down. Draco didn’t even bother to pretend to be snooty and affected anymore; he was so stressed-out and terrified that he didn’t have the energy to do so. His mournful loneliness had been superseded by a feeling of sheer terror, and all he could think about was the hideous task that he’d been assigned. As he spent hours in the Room of Requirements, trying to make the cabinet there work again so that the Death Eaters could come through it and invade Hogwarts, he remembered as though it were a long time ago the pleasure and joy he’d experienced when he was with the two men he loved. Those memories seemed dim and transparent, for all he had at the moment was an overwhelming burden of fear and guilt. 

There was no one left to talk to, and no way for him to contact Fred and George. He would never do anything that would get his former lovers in trouble or put them in danger. Draco Malfoy loved the Weasley twins far too much to let anything bad happen to them if he could avoid it. So he went on surviving as best he could for that awful year. 

 

To his horror, Harry Potter actually found him crying in the abandoned girl’s bathroom one day, pouring out his troubled to Moaning Myrtle. She was the only semi-sympathetic ear that he had left, and he’d thought that he’d be okay to talk to her. He reacted badly to Potter’s appearance, terrified that Harry might have heard what he’d been saying to the ghost. After that incident he lost even that outlet. He didn’t dare go back and talk to Myrtle again now that Harry Potter knew that he’d been having conversations with the ghost. His acute, lonely misery just went on and on, and the year stretched into an eternity.

Draco finally did get the cabinet working, and cursed his own ingenuity as he did so. Even as he cast the spell to bring the Death Eaters through, he was wishing that he could have cut off his own hands rather than do this. But he couldn’t let anything happen to his parents. He just couldn’t. The confrontation on the top of Hogwarts, when Severus Snape killed Dumbledore rather than making Draco do it, stunned Malfoy. He let the potions teacher drag him away, so deep in shock that he could barely speak. He was dimly aware that Voldemort was pleased with him, for the Dark Lord thought that it had been Malfoy who finished off the headmaster. He accepted his parents’ stilted praise, and the approving look he received from those red eyes, numbly. Afterward he retreated once again to his room, where he fell to his knees and wept wildly in grief and horror. If he hadn’t feared for his parents, Malfoy knew that in this bitterest of black moments he would have killed himself. He had nothing left to live for anymore anyway. 

 

The summer passed in a blank fog. Draco drifted through the halls of his house, uncaring about much of anything. Even Voldemort didn’t scare him as much anymore. He watched impassively as the Dark Lord tortured and killed people in front of his eyes. Something had broken inside of him that night on the top of Hogwarts, something which he had no idea if it could ever be mended. Nor was he even sure anymore whether he cared if it DID get mended. Life was a cold wasteland, and death would have been preferable for him. His parents were very worried about him, Draco knew; his mother tried to coax him into eating when he’d sit staring at his plate for the entire meal, and his father actually tried to talk to him. But he didn’t care anymore. The caring and approval that he would have killed to obtain before the twins now meant nothing to Draco Malfoy. He only stared at his father out of apathetic eyes when the man tried to have conversations with him, and after awhile Lucius gave up.

 

He was grateful to return to Hogwarts in the fall, despite what had happened there. Draco didn’t care that the other students turned a cold shoulder to him, or that he could see Dumbledore’s tomb every time he went to the greenhouses for Herbology class. At least he didn’t have to spend any more time with his concerned parents or Voldemort. He could drift down the halls between classes, very much alone in spite of his Crabbe and Goyle shadows, feeling like a very substantial ghost. 

There were Death Eaters everywhere at the school, and Snape was now headmaster in spite of the fact that he’d killed the former one. Only Malfoy was aware of what the former potions master had done, and how much he owed the man. He felt a deep gratitude toward Snape that he couldn’t really express aloud. If Draco had really had to kill Dumbledore, he knew that that would have destroyed his soul as well. Not that he seemed to have much of that left anymore… 

There were whispers about Harry Potter everywhere at school. The Boy Who’d Lived had not returned to Hogwarts, nor had Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger. It was said that he was searching for a way to destroy Voldemort once and for all. Draco wished him well, although he was skeptical about what Harry or anybody else could do about the terrifying creature still living in the Malfoy mansion. He didn’t believe that anything good could happen anymore. The Dark Lord would simply get stronger and stronger, and in the end all who opposed him would die. In his despair, Draco welcomed that thought. Death would be far more preferable than living the life he had for the last two years.

 

To his utter shock, Harry Potter was captured by Death Eaters and brought to their house. The other boy’s face was terribly swollen, but it was clearly him. Still, when his wretched Aunt Bellatrix asked Draco to identify his former fellow student, Malfoy pretended that he didn’t know Harry. He couldn’t do anything to help Hermione when his bitch of an aunt was torturing her, but when Potter made a break for it Draco deliberately surrendered his wand to Harry so that the other boy could escape. He was careful to make it look like he was trying to keep Granger and Potter from getting away, but his heart leapt in his chest in glee and joy when the scarred boy and the frizzy-haired girl made it out of the house before Voldemort could return. Inside of himself he was laughing wildly, especially when his aunt was severely punished for letting Harry get away. How he hated her. If he’d ever wanted to do murder…. 

He returned to Hogwarts with a lighter heart than he’d had when he left it to go home. Harry Potter was free, and the twins were helping the resistance fighters. He’d surreptitiously tuned into the channel they were broadcasting from several times, and had listened avidly to those beloved voices. If Fred and George could keep fighting, then so could he. They gave him hope and a reason to go on. Voldemort wasn’t perfect or all powerful; Potter had proved that over and over again. Perhaps there could be a better ending to this than he’d ever imagined possible in these horrid two years. Draco Malfoy had decided to come back into the land of the living, armed with the first good emotions that he’d felt in a very long time. Who knew what could happen when the Boy Who Lived finally confronted Voldemort once and for all?


	7. How Do I Get There  From Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco takes a chance on his heart...

Malfoy stood at the head of the stairs, looking out over the chaos taking place in Hogwarts. Wizard battles raged on all sides, and fearsome creatures were everywhere. The blonde boy hugged himself a little as he scanned the crowd below, looking for a familiar pair of redheads. Draco was sure that where the rest of the Weasleys were, Fred and George would be as well. But so far he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his former lovers. All he wanted was to make sure that they were all right, and to be able to even catch a glimpse of them once more. It had been so long… His remaining best friend was sitting on the steps beside him, crying noisily over the loss of Victor Crabbe. Malfoy wasn’t crying; he felt that Victor had brought it upon himself by calling up the fiendfyre in the Room of Requirements to try to kill Harry Potter. That he’d been a victim of his own spell was ironic, to say the least. But it was impossible to grieve for someone who’d done something so stupid.

And besides – over the last two years, Draco had drawn away from his friends. He had no real love for Death Eaters anymore, or for those who sided with them. While he’d pretended to still like them, Crabbe and Goyle had become mere set pieces to him. He ignored Goyle’s blubbering as he scanned the lobby below, still hoping for a glimpse of one of both of twins. “Draco!” a voice cried. He looked to the left to see his parents hurrying toward him, their faces alight. While he was glad to see that they were both still alive, Malfoy still felt distant and hollow enough that no emotions but very vague ones stirred in his breast when they hugged him. His mother exclaimed over the tragedy of Crabbe’s death; Malfoy ignored her as he turned away to watch the battle for Hogwarts go on.

 

It seemed to rage on for an eternity. But finally it was over; Harry Potter had finished Voldemort. A cheer rang out through the castle, as well as wails of mourning for the many dead. Draco felt something inside of him relax for the first time since he’d walked into his house and discovered the Dark Lord there. He sat down abruptly beside the still sniveling Goyle, wishing desperately that he were sharing this moment with the Weasley twins. But he knew that they had most likely forgotten that he existed. Draco twisted his hands together in his lap, wishing that he could rejoice like everyone else. But all the good emotions seemed to have been scoured out of him, and he stared down at the hugging, cheering crowds below him with hollow, blank eyes. 

 

Draco Malfoy occupied an armchair in the sitting room of his parents’ house. Or at least, his body did anyway. He stared listlessly into the fire, his pale eyes far away and detached. His mother entered the room with a tray, her face a picture of worry. She hesitated in the doorway, staring at her motionless son. Narcissa was desperately worried about him. Ever since the battle for Hogwarts, when Voldemort fell to Harry Potter, Draco had become more and more withdrawn. Instead of regaining his joie de vivre now that they were all free, her son seemed to be retreating further and further away from reality. It was as though something had broken within him, something she didn’t know how to fix.

Narcissa entered the room at last, carrying the tray over to the table next to the armchair Draco was sitting in. “Here’s your tea, Draco dear,” she said in a falsely-bright voice.

Her son didn’t respond to her presence, sitting as still as a carved statue in the chair. She sighed as she set out to try to wheedle him into eating. If she didn’t constantly nag or force her son into doing so, he would sit at the dinner table staring at his plate without eating anything. He was growing thin, and even paler than he had been. It was as though he were becoming a ghost – a ghost that haunted the halls of Malfoy mansion like a lost soul. 

“Come now, Draco dear,” she coaxed, patting one of his hands. “Eat your biscuits, hmm? They’re very good.” 

Nothing. No response. Draco continued to stare into the fire, his face blank. It was as though she weren’t even in the room with him. Narcissa sighed as she sat back on her heels. What was she going to do?

 

Draco was lost in the heart of the fire. The orange leaping flames comforted and soothed him somehow. He wished that he could use that fire to talk to the twins – or perhaps hurl himself into it and be immolated by the heat. He knew that he was in mourning – not for his friend Crabbe, but for the death of his dreams. Three months had passed since the battle of Hogwarts. And in that time, neither Fred nor George had tried to contact him. They obviously didn’t care about their former lover at all.

Before, he’d been able to use the excuse that they wouldn’t want to contact him because they knew how dangerous it was. But now Voldemort was gone, and the Death Eaters were either dead or disbanded. And still they didn’t try to get in touch with him. He had no more excuses. They simply didn’t care, and his heart was broken in two because of that fact. 

There was no reason for him to continue on living anymore. The only balm to his scarred soul would have been the twins’ love (or even their careless affection). But he didn’t even have that, and Draco Malfoy was finally succumbing to the despair that had lived at the center of his being for so very long.

Narcissa stood over her son, feeling a kind of despair of her own. He was slipping away, and she simply didn’t know what to do any more. She’d considered having him committed to St. Mungo’s, but his malady didn’t seem physical in nature. It was some soul-deep melancholy instead, one that was devouring him whole. But as she stood looking down at his too pale face, something snapped inside of her. Narcissa drew back her hand and slapped her adored son on his cheek as hard as she could. 

Draco’s head rocked back from the force of the blow, and his pale eyes were wide as his hand flew to his bruised cheek. “Mother?” he said in disbelief, gaping up at his parent as though she’d turned into a dementor right in front of him.

Narcissa fluttered around him, making helpless gestures with her hands. “I’m sorry, Draco!” she cried, “But I just couldn’t take it anymore! Please, you must tell me what’s wrong – I can’t stand to see you like this!” the grief and fear in her voice penetrated the last of his indifferent shell, and Draco Malfoy was more alive right at this moment than he had been for many months before this. There were actually tears in his mother’s eyes. 

Draco stared up at her, feeling a shaft of guilt lance through him. He was worrying his parents, he knew that. He bit his lip as he dropped his eyes to where his hands were twining in his lap. “I’m sorry, Mother,” he said. “I don’t mean to worry you…”

“As if any of that matters!” Narcissa replied fiercely. “I don’t care about that! I just want to help you, Draco! Please tell me what’s wrong!”

The anguish in her voice smote him to the heart. He decided that it was time to tell her the truth, since she deserved to know why he was like this. He sighed. “I’ll tell you Mother,” he replied sadly, “Although you’ll probably hate me afterward.”

“I could never hate you,” she said firmly, sitting down in the chair beside his and reaching for one of his hands. “Tell me, Draco.” 

He hesitated, but then spoke while still staring at his hands. “While I was at Hogwarts, a few years ago, I was – with someone. Umm, two someones, actually,” he continued, his shoulders lifting defensively. 

“Two someones?” she repeated. “What do you mean, Draco?”

“Twins,” he said softly. “Twins, Mother. We were lovers. It was the happiest time of my life…” he went on mournfully. “And I was desperately in love with them. Still am, actually,” he lifted his head to smile wanly at her. “And I greatly fear that I always will be. That’s the sad truth, in a nutshell.”

“Twins,” Narcissa said. “Do you mean those girls who were in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor? The Patil girls?” 

His smile was crooked and wry. “If only it were that easy,” he remarked. “No, Mother. I’m not talking about Parvati and Padma.” 

“But,” she said in bewilderment, “there weren’t any other twins at Hogwarts except for…” she trailed off, her eyes widening. 

“That’s right,” he replied simply. “The Weasley twins. Fred and George. I’m a poof, Mother. I realized that after something happened during my fourth year, but I was terrified of what Father would do to me if he found out. So I hid it, and struggled with it, until the Weasley twins came along and offered to help me out. They became my lovers, and they never told anyone about me. They kept my secret until they left school in the middle of the next year. And during that time…” he turned his head away to stare at the fire once more, “I fell in love with them. Both of them. But I know that they didn’t love me in return; I was just someone they were sleeping with. That has been confirmed by the fact that they haven’t tried to contact me since the battle of Hogwarts ended. And I…” a sob broke forth from his throat, making her heart contract at the sorrow and despair in his voice. “I don’t know what to do,” Draco said wearily, his head bowing. “So go ahead and hate me, Mother. Tell Father, too, so that he can rage at me. I don’t care anymore.” 

Silence. Draco waited for her to explode, to yell and scream at him. But instead her voice said quietly but firmly after a moment: “Draco, dear, I will always love you no matter what. Now get up and fetch your new wand. You’re going to London immediately.” 

His head flew up, and he turned to stare at her incredulously. “What?!” he exclaimed. 

Narcissa shook her head. “Draco, you cannot continue on like this anymore. You must go and confront those boys, find out how they really feel about you. You may discover that you’re right; that they don’t love you. But at least you’d know one way or another. This sitting around moping isn’t doing you any good at all. Be brave, Draco, like I know you can be. Face the Weasley twins and find out. Your heart won’t be any more broken than it is now if you discover that they don’t care for you in the same way that you do for them.” 

Taken aback, Draco Malfoy stared at his mother. This was a side of her he’d never seen before. Her mouth was set in a stubborn line that said that he’d have no choice but to do what she’d advised. What he didn’t understand was that Narcissa Malfoy was so terrified about her son’s deteriorating condition that she would have given the same advice if he’d admitted to being in love with a banshee or a hill giant. If the Weasley twins were the only cure for her son’s malaise, then so be it.

 

Draco Malfoy apparated onto the sidewalk outside the Leaky Cauldron, an overnight bag clutched in his sweaty hands. He was trembling faintly as he looked up at the crudely painted cauldron on the sign above the tavern’s door. Dry mouthed, he walked on shaky legs up the steps and into the shadowy interior. The witches and wizards occupying the tables inside the place didn’t spare him a glance for the most part, and the bald owner merely nodded at him impersonally as he drew a draft for the tiny witch perched on the barstool in front of him. Draco continued on into Diagon Alley without stopping, although he could have wished for a hefty drink or two to shore up his resolution.

Then he was in the cluttered wizarding market place, with the shops nestled side-by-side along both sides of the cobble stoned street. Diagon Alley was busy today, not surprising since the newly repaired Hogwarts would be re-opening soon for another school year. Malfoy was lost in the swirling crowds as he made his way up the street. Here it was. A colorful-looking shop with magical lights glowing in the windows and on the bold lettering of the huge sign over the door: ‘Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes’. 

Children were streaming in and out of the shop, giggling over their purchases. Draco stood frozen on the street, his fingers turning white on the handles of the bag he carried, staring wide-eyed at the shop and he struggled to work up enough courage to go in. What if the twins had forgotten him entirely? What if they looked at him with disinterested eyes, not even recognizing him? But finally he took one small step forward, which led to another and then another. He pushed through the door, hearing the bell give off a wild jangling chorus, and he was in the busy, cluttered shop beyond. 

Draco stood for a moment, just looking around. Shelves lined the walls and took up a great deal of the floor space, all of them stuffed with the curious, funny, or just downright evil creations of the Weasley twins fertile minds. There was a wide counter, and attending to their many customers were a very familiar pair of redheads…Malfoy felt his heart lurch in his chest as he stared at the twins’ laughing faces. It had been so long since he’d seen them…they seemed to have filled out a bit, and grown even taller; and the men who were replacing the gangly boys were clear in their faces. Draco was fascinated by the changes in them. 

His heart thumped in his chest and his breath faltered in his throat as he stood near the door, unable to proceed any further into the room. George handed a bag to his latest customer, a skinny boy who was all elbows and knees. “There you are, lad,” he said cheerfully. “But just remember – Turning your brother into a frog is only a temporary solution – sand he’d bound to be right mad at you when he turns back.”

He winked at the kid, who grinned before scurrying off with his purchase clutched in one hand. Letting his eyes scan the crowded shop, George felt a sense of satisfaction. Business was really good today. His eyes came to rest on a tall, pale, young man standing near the door, and started to slide away. Then they stuttered and came to a halt, before George Weasley turned them back to stare at this young man again. That pointed face was unmistakable, despite the fact that Draco Malfoy had grown a few inches and filled out across the shoulders some since he and Fred had seen the other boy last. A grin spread across his face and he nudged his brother in the ribs none too gently. “Look whose come to see us,” he said softly to Fred when his twin gave him an annoyed glance.

Fred followed his line of sight, and his mouth fell open a little as he too recognized the youth hesitating near the door. “Our Git!” Fred exclaimed happily. 

“He’s got good timing, eh?” George remarked, making his brother nod in satisfaction.

Then the two men raised their voices to be heard over the din. “Oi! Everybody clear out now! We’re closing for tea,” they yelled; never mind the fact that it was only noon.

There were cries of disappointment as the twins began to herd their customers toward the door, but they stood firm. Finally, the last unhappy customer was shooed out, except for Draco Malfoy. He’d been unsure whether he should leave, and was still standing frozen near the door. He might have bolted, but his legs didn’t seem to be working at the moment. George locked the door, while Fred hung the ‘be back soon’ sign on it. Then both twins turned to look at their former lover, who was staring at them with wide pale blue eyes. 

“Hullo, Malf,” George said casually, as though they had only been apart a day rather than several years. 

“Great to see you,” Fred added, grinning at the pale boy. “We were just going to come and roust you out of the country.” he added, “So you really do have perfect timing. Welcome to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. What do you think of the place, eh?”


	8. Chapter 8

Draco was confused. Why were they greeting him in this casually affectionate manner? Why did they care what he thought about their shop? But he answered aloud: “It seems very nice,” he tried to keep his voice polite and empty of any real emotion. He was too wary of the long years of silence.

“We think so,” Fred agreed happily. “But we hoped you’d like it too.”

Malfoy blinked, looking puzzled. “Why?” he finally asked, unable to understand their wish that he should approve of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. 

Now it was the twins’ turn to look puzzled. “Because we didn’t want to invite you to come and live in some sty with us, now did we?” George said, as though this were a perfectly reasonable thing to say. 

Silence. Draco stared wildly from one to the other of them, trying to understand. Seeing the confusion written plainly on his face, Fred and George once more exchanged speaking glances. “Umm…I take it you never guessed that we might come and collect you at some later date?” Fred said slowly to Draco.

Stunned, numb, he shook his head slowly. “You…you never came,” he whispered, his body beginning to tremble slightly. “It’s been THREE MONTHS!” he shouted from between clenched teeth, all of his agony turning to rage at their careless statements (that they certainly couldn’t really mean). 

They both looked sheepish. “Well, we’re right sorry about that, Malf,” George said. “We meant to come sooner, but there’s been so much going on…what with Ginny and Ron both getting engaged, and our Mum on about the weddings, and Fleur having a baby and everything. We couldn’t get away from the Burrow much, let alone fly half way across the country. And we couldn’t Apparate to your house; we’ve never been there before. Those are all bad excuses,” he admitted, guilt on his face, “But they’re the best we’ve got.” 

Malfoy took in a shuddering breath. “For over two years,” he said hollowly, “You never once tried to contact me. Not once. Why should I believe anything you say? Are you trying to tell me now that you care a fig for me? Because I really don’t believe you!” he turned on his heel, meaning to leave forever. This was just too much, he couldn’t take it anymore… 

Hands caught at his arms, halting him. “Wait, Malf,” Fred said urgently. 

“Yeah,” added George. “You’re upset that we haven’t tried to contact you for two years? But Draco, Dammit, we couldn’t do that! How were we supposed to talk to you at Hogwarts? That would have looked awfully suspicious, us wanting to talk to or write a Slytherin boy. Besides, we knew how scared you were of your dad. That’s the reason why we didn’t try to contact you at home each summer, either. You said he’d kill you – and you seemed to really believe that. How could we do anything that would get you hurt? What kind of bastards do you take us for?”

Malfoy stared at them both, seeing the concern and indignation alike in their faces. “But you…” he trailed off, for of the twins were telling the truth they’d avoided him because they were WORRIED about him! That implied that they did care for him, but how could he really believe that? “I…” he bit at his lip, pressing hard enough to nearly break the skin. From the marks that were already there, this wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

George sighed, shaking his head. “Christ, Git, you’re pretty clueless,” he remarked in exasperation.

When Draco’s pale eyes stared at him, the redhead waved his hands in front of him. “We were lovers at Hogwarts for how long? Almost a year and a half? And in that time it never occurred to you once that we might see you as something other than a good shag, did it?” his voice was biting.

Malfoy blinked, looking dumbfounded. The twins sighed together in unison. There was exasperated affection in their faces now. “Malf,” Fred said gently, “We’d never stayed with anyone else that long before you. Our record was about two months before we hooked up with you. Of course we care about you. But since you wouldn’t believe us if we told you that, we kept our mouths shut. We figured that once we left school we could get out business off the ground and wait until you graduated. Once you did, you’d be an adult with nothing to fear from your dad or anyone else. Then we could finally tell you how we feel and offer you a home. And that’s what we meant to do after the battle of Hogwarts, but as George says we got distracted. But if you want to know the truth, our bags are packed upstairs. We meant to leave as soon as we talked Ron into taking over for us temporarily. Your coming here just saved us a trip, that’s all.” 

Malfoy’s eyes were wide. They both seemed perfectly reasonable and earnest, as though they truly meant what they said. Could he trust them? Were they telling the truth? But they’d never lied to him before, not like this. He felt something inside of him, something that had been wound too tight for a very long time, snap completely. He fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands, and began to cry in a terrible way as all of his fear and despair flowed out of him in a stunning rush. 

His shoulders heaved as the twins stared down at him in shock and horror, for the sounds he was making were so full of pain that it smote Fred and George to their very hearts. As one they kneeled beside him, each taking a shoulder, and Fred said urgently: “Malf? Draco? What is it? What’s the matter?” 

But Draco couldn’t answer them coherently. He couldn’t seem to stop crying, his whole body shaking. The twins were becoming scared. As one, they each put a hand under one of his armpits and half lifted him. They dragged the still pitifully sobbing Draco Malfoy into the small sitting room behind the shop, and took him over to the rather ratty couch. They sat down on either side of him and closed their arms tightly around his violently heaving body, rocking him as though he were a small child. “It’s all right, Malf,” George crooned, “We’re here. It’s okay.” 

His voice spoke on and on, and finally Malfoy’s trembling and weeping subsided a bit. Fred said softly: “Tell us about it, Draco. What’s the matter?” 

Dully, hoarsely, Malfoy began to speak through his fingers. “W-when I came home for the s-summer the year you both left school, I f-found that the Dark Lord h-had moved into my house…” 

“What?!” exclaimed George in shock. A slight nod of his throbbing head, as Malfoy struggled to put into words all of the fear and horror that he’d felt for the last two years of his life. “H-he wanted me t-to try to find a way to k-k-kill Dumbledore…” he went on, hearing both of the twins cry out at this awful statement. “B-but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t! But if I didn’t, h-he said that he’d k-kill my parents…” 

Fred and George exchanged horrified glances. They’d never imagined for one moment that their lover had been enduring such terrible things for the last two years. “I didn’t know what to do,” Draco said softly, his voice full of despair, “S-so I did what he’d told me to. I got a cabinet in the Room of Requirements to work, and the D-death Eaters came through it, and I was supposed t-to kill Dumbledore, b-but Professor S-Snape did it instead…”

The twins had known that Severus Snape had killed Albus Dumbledore, and they also knew from Harry Potter that the Headmaster had wanted the Professor to end him. But Harry hadn’t mentioned the part about Draco Malfoy, because he hadn’t known that the twins would be interested. He’d had no idea that they were always very interested in things having to do with Malfoy... 

“He rewarded me” Draco went on in a muffled voice. He laughed, an awful sound full of hysteria, “For my good work. Isn’t that funny? My good work.” 

The twins tightened their hands on Draco’s body. Dully the other boy went on, “I used to watch as he tortured people, even killed them. Right in front of my eyes…and I couldn’t do anything. I was so scared, all of the time…I was so glad to go back to school. But even there it was awful, because the Death Eaters had taken over and were torturing students everywhere I turned. But not me, because I was a good boy…” he laughed again, hollowly, as their stomachs contracted. “I helped Harry Potter escape from my horrible Aunt Bellatrix,” Malfoy said, sounding happier, “And she got punished by Voldemort. That was the best part of those two years, I think. I-I wanted to kill myself so many times, but I was too much of a coward…” 

Again the twins exchanged startled, horrified glances. “We’re so sorry, Draco,” George said, guilt once more heavy in his voice, “If we’d known any of this we’d have tried to help you escape from the school or even your house. We wouldn’t have left you there to suffer.” 

“You would have been killed,” Draco protested, lifting his head so that they could see his pale, tear-stained face. 

“That doesn’t matter,” Fred said impatiently. “As long as we could have helped you be safe.”

“It matters to me,” Malfoy said. “I never wanted anything to happen to either of you. I-I don’t think I could have stood it if something had.”

George cocked his head a bit. “And why is that, Malf?” he asked almost impishly.

A flush rose in the pale cheeks, as Draco dropped his eyes as though suddenly interested in the worn carpet underfoot. “I…” his hands twined in his lap, as Fred and George chuckled almost in unison.

“Admit it, Malf, you like us,” George crooned. “You know you do.” 

Draco didn’t lift his head, but he said very softly: “Yes, I do.” 

This admission made the twins grin at each other triumphantly, for the entire time that they’d all been lovers at Hogwarts Draco had refused to say that he felt anything for them other than desire. That was one of the big reasons that they’d refrained from admitting to him that they were starting to feel far more for him than just lust or casual affection. “In that case…” George said, and they moved to pull the pale-haired boy off the couch and take him to the narrows staircase that led to the upper floor of the shop. They went into Fred’s room, since it was closest to the stairs. 

Draco went with them tamely, too off balance and weak from that cleansing catharsis to fight – especially when he didn’t want to, anyway. Once in the room, they moved as one to claim their lover once again. Fred kissed him deeply, while George began to pull off Draco’s clothes. His fingers sketched that pale skin, learning its contours and shapes once more, as Fred’s tongue sucked on Malfoy’s with gentle intensity. Then they pushed the naked boy down on the bed, and joined him there after they’d shed their own clothing impatiently. Their mouths kissed every bit of Draco’s skin, making him shiver and pant desperately as his body came to life once more. He’d almost forgotten what this felt like, to have two sets of lips and hands on him at once. 

The twins talked to him as they went to work. George said rather muffledly against his thigh: “We’ve missed you, Malf.” just before the redhead began to suck lightly at a pair of tight little testicles, making Draco cry out above his head. 

“Yeah,” Fred agreed as he tongued at a pale nipple tenderly, “Would you believe that we’ve saved ourselves just for you all this time?” 

Draco, startled, looked down his body at the pair attending to him. “What?!” he exclaimed, not believing it.

Fred nodded, his hair tickling Draco’s skin. “That’s right,” George agreed, lifting his mouth away from his task for a moment. “Nobody else is quite like you, Malf.” 

Malfoy moaned helplessly, arching his back, as both pure happiness and pleasure coiled through him together. He was delirious with lust and a wondering awe as the twins finally moved away from him together. He found himself being lifted as Fred slid in behind him and reached down to insert a slick finger into his body. He moaned, his head falling back against Fred’s shoulder, as George settled over his thighs and began to kiss him once more. His arms lifted to wind around George’s neck, and he returned the kiss with all of his heart and soul.

There were two fingers moving within him now, and he pushed back to take more of these as well. He was surrounded by the Weasley twins, overwhelmed by them and by the love he felt for them both. He cried out into George’s muffling mouth as Fred pushed inside of him at last. It seemed so perfect, so natural, that it barely hurt at all. George rose up a bit so that he could position himself between Malfoy’s thighs, and he reached down a hand to grab both of their cocks together. Their erections slid through his hand, and rubbed against each other as well. 

Draco gasped into the mouth eating at his, as Fred began to thrust into him from behind and George rocked his own hips in near unison with his twin. It felt so good, so right, that Malfoy found himself crying a little again. Not in grief or pain this time, but in a rising joy that was in lock step with the passion threatening to overwhelm him. He wailed into George’s mouth as the tip of Fred’s cock struck that special place within him, and the red head groaned into his ear in satisfied tones, “You feel so good, Malf, so tight. We’ve missed you so much,” he thrust sharply into Draco’s body and this was too much for the pale haired boy. He screamed into George’s mouth as he came, and his orgasm set both of the twins off as well.

Fred threw his head back as he came within his lover’s tight body, the convulsing internal muscles milking him. George growled into Malfoy’s suddenly slack mouth as he climaxed, his semen spurting out over Draco’s stomach as he shuddered faintly. They all slumped in the aftermath, not wanting to move. Fred’s nose nuzzled the damp pale hair near Malfoy’s ear, as George rested his head on his lover’s shoulder. Draco’s eyes were closed, and he panted for breath. They all felt such peace in the wake of passion that it was almost overwhelming. 

Finally, George remarked rather hoarsely: “That was great, Malf. ALMOST worth two years wait,” he teased, making Fred laugh a bit. 

When Draco opened his eyes, he met George’s, which were twinkling. “But then they sobered abruptly. “Will you stay with us, Draco? Or is it too late? You went through so much – and all alone. We should have been there for you. We’ll understand,” he said rather sadly as he met his brothers eyes over Malfoy’s shoulder, “If you decide not to.” 

Draco was silent for so long that the twins began to sweat. They wouldn’t know what to do if their Git decided he didn’t want them anymore. Then Malfoy said slowly: "I would…like to stay,” he began, making them both perk up, “But…” he hesitated.

“What?” Fred asked, thinking that Malfoy was going to make them jump through hoops to get him to stay. If that was what he needed, they’d do it…But Malfoy’s next words weren’t at all what he’d expected. 

“I’d like to…do something,” Draco said. “To earn my keep. I don’t want to be a burden on you…” he looked from Fred to George, as they both blinked at him in surprise.

“You wouldn’t be a burden on us, Malf,” George said truthfully.

Malfoy sighed. “Maybe, but I’d still like to work for my keep,” he said.

“Okay,” Fred said suddenly, “If that’s the way you want it, Malf, you can work in the shop with us. We could use a clerk to tend to the counter when we’re busy experimenting. What do you say?” 

Malfoy considered this offer. He thought that he might like doing something like that, even if it was boring. Boring sounded good right now to his scarred soul. And he would have the twins…He smiled suddenly, the first smile that had graced his lips in such a long time that it felt unnatural and weird. “I say…yes,” he replied simply, and found himself surrounded in a close hug once more. 

“Good,” George said, as Fred nodded in happy agreement.


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter gets a surprise when he visits the twins' shop with Ginny...

Four Months Later: The bell over the door rang, signaling that customers were entering the shop. The slim man with platinum-colored hair came out of the back at this sound, glancing toward the door to see who had entered Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. But he was brought up short when he did see the two people who’d come into the shop – a rather tall young man with mussed dark hair and a pair of gold-framed glasses (he’d gotten better ones once he graduated from Hogwarts), as well as a lightning zigzag scar down his forehead, as well as a pretty red-haired girl a year younger than he was. Harry Potter had come to the shop to see his friends Fred and George, along with his fiancée their sister Ginny.

“Oi! Fred, George!” Harry called loudly. 

Malfoy stood frozen behind the counter, his tongue seeming to be sticking to the roof of his mouth. Except for his mother, no one else knew that he was with the Weasley twins. He and Harry were long established enemies, although it had been years since he’d felt any real animosity toward the Boy Who’d Lived. But Draco also knew that Harry still didn’t like him much, and he wondered how both Potter and Ginny Weasley would react to finding him here – let alone if they discovered that he was more than just a simple shop boy to Fred and George Weasley. He considered running into the back and making one of the twins come out to talk to Harry and Ginny, but before he could Potter strode to the back of the shop and saw the familiar-looking clerk manning the counter.

Harry came to a shocked halt, gaping at the pale-haired man staring at him across the counter. “Malfoy? What are YOU doing here?” Potter demanded as Ginny came up beside him. She was staring at Draco in surprise as well, and he felt his stomach muscles contract. 

But before he could answer, his lovers were summoned from the back by the sound of Harry’s voice. “Oi, Harry!” cried George, beaming at the dark-haired boy. “Hey, Ginny! What are you guys doing here?”

Potter lifted an accusatory finger to point toward Malfoy. “What’s HE doing here?!” Harry demanded of the twins, who exchanged glances behind Malfoy’s back. 

“He works for us,” Fred remarked calmly. “We needed a clerk.” Draco tried not to be hurt by this explanation. He knew that the twins wouldn’t want to admit that they were with him, that the three of them were lovers. He looked down at the wood of the counter blindly to conceal his expression, as Potter said: “But why Draco Malfoy? Couldn’t you have found someone else to work for you?” 

Malfoy’s shoulders tensed as he waited for the twins to answer. Ginny said quietly: “I don’t see what’s wrong with him working here, Harry,” her fiancée looked at her in surprise, but she was staring at her brothers. 

The twins looked at each other again, and then both turned to stare at Harry. “There’s a great reason why it has to be Malfoy who works for us, Harry,” George said. 

Fred nodded, as Potter glanced from one to the other of the twins. “What reason?” he asked. 

The red-haired boys grinned suddenly. “Because he’s OURS,” they said in unison, each laying a hand on their lover’s shoulders. 

Draco’s head flew up, and he gaped at both of them in shock. He couldn’t believe that they’d actually said that! Potter looked puzzled. “What? What do you mean, he’s yours?” 

Ginny was staring at her brothers’ faces, and a grin flickered over her mouth. She at least knew them well enough to understand what they’d just said. Fred snickered. “What we mean, Harry, is that this is our Git,” he said, patting the shoulder his hand was resting on. “He has been since school. He lives with us,” he added. “And we’re keeping him,” the possessive pride in his voice made Malfoy’s heart start to beat very fast.

The bewildered look on Harry’s face said clearly that he still had no idea what the twins were talking about. Ginny spoke up beside him: “What they mean, Harry, is that they and Malfoy are lovers.” 

Her voice was matter-of-fact, since she’d known about her twin brothers’ proclivities for years. Potter’s jaw hit the floor, and his eyes were practically bugging out of his head. So many new concepts at once were hard for him to wrap his mind around. That not only one guy, but TWO…were lovers with another guy…and one who’d been his enemy at school…steam was almost visibly rising from his ears as Ginny patted his arm sympathetically.

“You can’t be…serious?” Harry said rather pathetically as he looked from Fred to George with a pleading expression on his face. 

They both grinned at the expression on his face. “Sorry, Harry,” George remarked. “But it’s true. You might not like it because you and Malf used to be enemies, but school’s over. And I’m sure that he doesn’t have a grudge against you anymore,” he glanced at Draco, who shook his head silently. He’d gone through far too much these last few years to care about a childhood rivalry.

“See? And I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it, because we plan to bring Malf with us when we come home for Christmas. Mum and Dad’ll probably go ballistic at first, but we’re not changing our mind and they’ll have to see that. And so will you, Harry. We won’t let you be mean to him,” he said warningly. 

Ginny giggled at the look on Harry’s face when George said this. That they were warning him off about being mean to MALFOY… “What makes you think I’d be mean to HIM?!” Potter blurted out in disbelief. 

Fred shook his head. “Because while we know he wasn’t nice to you, Harry, you weren’t very nice to him at school either. And he was going through a lot of shit during his last few years there, with no one to be there for him because we’d gone. You have to admit that when you don’t like someone, you can be pretty stubborn about changing your mind. Snape, for example,” he added shrewdly, making Harry blush in shame. He’d thoroughly misjudged his deceased potions teacher, for which he was now very sorry. They might even have been friends, if he hadn’t been so stubbornly blind about the late professor…

“Okay,” he mumbled, scratching at the wild black hair on his head.

The twins relaxed and smiled gratefully at him. “Thanks, Harry,” they both said together. “So what do you think of our shop?” Fred went on eagerly.

The twins got busy taking Potter on a tour, but Ginny remained standing by the counter. She turned to look at Draco, who still hadn’t said anything. He stared back at her with a rather nervous expression on her face. She leaned forward over the counter a bit, setting her hands on top of it. “I only have one thing to say to you, Draco Malfoy,” she began softly in a rather menacing tone of voice. He began to visibly sweat, cringing back a little. She met his eyes as she said sternly: “Welcome to the family.” 

Her words were such a contrast to her tone that he didn’t understand what she’d said for a moment. He blinked a look of surprise on his face. She chuckled at his rather pole axed expression. She patted one of his hands comfortingly. “Be strong,” she said to him, “Since Mum and Dad won’t be happy at first when they bring you home. They want to be with you, and you can use that knowledge to not let anything anyone says to you hurt your feelings. All right?”

He stared at her, and then nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said softly. 

She grinned. “You’re welcome.”

She straightened up as her fiancé approached them. “Ginny? Are you ready to go? We’re due back at the Burrow by five,” he glanced briefly at Malfoy, but said nothing to the pale-haired boy. He was still weirded out about this whole situation. It would take some time for him to adjust to the fact that the twins were sleeping with his former enemy.

“Sure,” she replied cheerfully. She looked at her brothers, who were standing nearby. “We’ll see you guys soon,” she said to them, for Christmas was only a few weeks away. 

They nodded. The red-haired girl set her arm on her fiancé’s, and the two left the shop together. Fred and George looked at their lover, who stared back at them rather numbly. He’d never expected them to so easily claim him in front of their sister and Harry Potter as well. Nor had he known that they were going to drag him home to the Burrow for Christmas. He didn’t know quite what to say, but a warm glow was rising up inside of him. He found himself smiling, a sight that heartened the twins greatly. Their lover was still recovering from the last awful two years, and he was more often solemn-faced and rather sad than not. 

“Well, that didn’t go too badly,” George remarked in satisfaction. “And since Ginny will tell Mum, she and Dad will have some time to adjust before we arrive.” 

Malfoy blinked. They WANTED their sister to tell their mother about his presence at the shop? Seeing the surprise on his face, the twins chuckled. “We knew she’d spill the beans,” Fred said. “We were counting on it, in fact. That’s why we were so happy to see her and Harry today. It’ll be better if Mum has some warning. Otherwise she’ll blow her top.” 

Malfoy looked from one to the other of them. “Then perhaps… I shouldn’t go?” he said, thinking about a confrontation with the twins’ formable parent. 

“Nah, she’ll get over it,” George said easily coming around the counter with Fred right behind him. “She’ll have to, cause you’re not going anywhere,” he engulfed his lover in a tight hug, and his brother moved in on the other side. They held the pale-haired man between them as they had so often before, nuzzling their noses into the flaxen locks tenderly. 

“Isn’t that so, Git?” Fred asked, kissing Draco’s ear.

Surrounded by his lovers, being cradled in that way that always made him feel precious and wanted, Draco Malfoy smiled again. “Yes,” he said quietly but firmly, “That’s right. That’s definitely right.”

 

The End

A/N: Well, that's that, folks. Hope you enjoyed it. I chose not to kill off Fred for this fic because I don't think i've ever been angrier about a character death than I was about his. I actually hurled the book across the room when I read that. The thing that angered me the most was that I thought it was unnecessary; that Rowling was doing it to get a bigger emotional reaction rather than as an integral part of the story. So in my fic Fred happily lives on with his brother and their lover, doing what he loves(in every sense of the word, even the naughty ones :P).


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